


All Along, You Held My Heart

by kangelique



Series: You Held My Heart [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ballroom Dancing, Childhood Friends, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Drama, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Hunting, Magical problems, Misthaven/Enchanted Forest, Orphans, Princes & Princesses, School, Secrets, Slow Burn, Swordfighting, Traveling, brother moments too, coming of age type of thing, deaths at some point, holiday celebrations, lots of family angst, my own imaginations on the history of misthaven, no evil queen ( but I do like Regina), not really kingdom focused, over the span of three years, sneaking away, strained mother and daughter relantionship, tender moments, there will be fluff but it will take some time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-06-24 16:16:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 85,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15634239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kangelique/pseuds/kangelique
Summary: They called her the Golden Age -He just called her beautiful.They called her The Savior -He just called her Emma.Now they will call her Queen.Eighteen years after the Evil Queen was defeated, the subjects of Misthaven live in peace and the kingdom prospers. But with Princess Emma's coronation fast approaching, and her magic as unstable as ever, the potential for darkness becomes even more tempting. Soon she finds herself drifting closer and closer to Killian Jones, a man carrying hate and the dreams of glory and honor for the Jones's Brother's name. Too be honest, he wasn't what she expected after growing up in a life at court, but maybe that's alright because they might just change each other's world's...forever.





	1. A Gentle Knock

**Author's Note:**

> So it started with a one-shot that I wrote "For Love, I Will" and some comments told me they would have liked to read about the 3 year span if I chose to write the full story so...for those of you who said it HERE YOU GO!!! cause I decided to do it for real (yay,yay,yay) so I want to thank you for loving the one-shot as much as I loved writing it,I hope you enjoy this too! (The full story of how a princess and her captain first met and then fell and then loved)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it!

Chapter 1: A Gentle Knock

A knock came at her door.

The knock wasn't hard, or even close to impatient pounding for her to wake up. No, it was a gentle knock that slowly made her come to her senses when it registered in the fogginess of sleep, eyes opening and then blinking against the heavy bright sunlight coming in through the fine glass window--almost crystal kind, really--that hit the large bed she was currently splayed upon, fat fluffy pillows surrounding all around her as she furrowed her face into one, lazily sorting through everything going on today and what exactly royal business she had to attend but coming up with nothing, therefore a few more minutes were decided by the sigh that escaped into the fabric as she hugged it tight, feeling as her body gradually came to relax again and almost fell away to the dream she'd been on, but the voice on the other side made itself known.

"Princess Emma?"

She shook her head, though he couldn't see her protest.

"Your Highness? Are you awake yet? I bid you a good morning if you are, princess. The king and queen await for you downstairs at the dining hall for--"

 _Breakfast_ She finished for him in her head.

"--breakfast, Your Highness."

Almost immediately, she got out of bed; practically jumping out as her eyes popped when the realness of her parents waiting for her downstairs settled in her haze, pushing away any dream that had currently been playing in her sleep and been the cause of her still lingering smile as she untangled her feet from the suddenly hot covers, kicking them away and then sliding off the foamy mattress, rushing around her room in naked feet, all the while hearing her mother's voice say  _Wear something on those, Emma_ , chastising her when she had once been a bandit, but still Emma did as the voice said, quickly brushing through the small tangles in her hair and changing into more suitable clothing to have breakfast with her parents, only slightly letting herself think about how she'd been slow to learn how to change in and out of things with a snap of her fingers or flick of her wrist, despite how Blue said it was okay and that she could master it eventually with time.

The gentle knock came again.

"I'm awake! I'm coming! Just a minute please!"

"Of course, Your Highness."

Coming to stop in front of the door, perfectly white in door, she pauses to regain her posture, arching her shoulders slightly back the way her mother had taught her to do as a child-- _Don't slouch, Emma, sit like the princess you are, my dear--_ and then make sure her head was up and not hanging low the way it always used to go whenever she felt tired or bored, so her father was the one to kindly remind with a smile on his face to hold her head high-- _Be graceful, Emma, don't let the crown slip--_ and that in turn helped her keep control of whatever emotion she was feeling, whether good or bad, to reel it in and keep it hidden until she was behind closed doors again because they had showed her that a princess and future queen for Misthaven should never show fear or hesitance, but bravery and responsibility, aware of how she carried herself and was looked on by others, keep her face composed and impassive and devoid of any emotion when it was neccessary.

At least, that's what she tried to do when she turned the knob, opening the door in a slow fashion that showed no rush, all carefully after adjusting the light pink flats on her feet.

"Good morning," Emma smiled politely at the guard, and he bowed his head to her and then straightened up again, and she was met with chocolate eyes that rarely greeted her in the morning. "Graham."

He smiled politely back. "Indeed, Your Highness. Surprised to see me today?"

She shrugged, because truly she was; As the leader of her parent's royal guards, she doubted he could ever find some spare time in between all of his new priorities after being moved up to that position less than a year ago, but yet here he was, and she knew she was happy to see him as he escorted her down to the hall in pleasant silence and then bid her a farewell with another bow before disappearing around a corner.

Now she was more awake, body now having been up and moving, and mind having slowly reached to alert and aware made the minute she was out of her room and walking past the windows, freely smiling at seeing the gardens just outside and making a mental note that she would go there later as she took a small subtle deep breath--that she hoped wasn't too noticeable--and nodded to the two guards on either sides of the grand door to let her in.

They were already seated when she came in, but once they saw their daughter they both stood up, and the servants stepped out of the way as they made their way to her with smiles on both their faces that reflected her own while the three servants finished setting everything on the table; smell of a bunch of little fancy delicacies filling her nostrils and making her mouth water instantly.

"Good morning, Emma, did you sleep well?," David pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before pulling her in for a hug in which he cradled the back of her head and held her close, the way she imagined he used to do when she was a baby; She wondered if they would both always see her that way, as something easily breakable and in need of constant attention like when she was still a child not yet walking, but she dismissed the thought away and laughed instead as her mother pulled her in for a hug too.

"I did, father, thank you for asking."

"Oh! Look at you, Emma," Snow exclaimed with a full smile in place, holding her at arm's length and then a small brief sadness of something crossed her still fair features--despite the added years to her age. "you're growing up. Just look at her, David, she's no longer that small little girl that played in her nursery," David chuckled lightly, same sadness crossing him for a second, and then her mother put both hands on either side of her face, tears actually glistening in her eyes but not falling. "You are growing up to be a beautiful young woman."

Emma rolled her eyes a bit, not really believing and feeling like they were both exaggerating but used to these displays of affection from them. "Mother..."

"It's true!"

She decided to smile anyway for her sake, and Snow was wearing that look that clearly said  _And no, I'm not just saying it because I'm your mother,_ which was probably because of that very reason.

"Alright, alright," David stepped to put his hands on Snow's shoulders to turn her around that Emma almost sighed in relief to be momentary away from her mother's expectant gaze; He caught it, of course, and sent her a wink as she mouthed 'Thank you', following them to their usual seats. "come on, let's go eat before your mother gets more sentimental."

"Hey!"

They all chuckled and even the three servants that were girls shot little shy smiles their way to the happy family's banter.

Pulling out their chairs, they each sat down to the already waiting plates of food that were steaming hot and warm; David at the head of the table, Snow on his right, and Emma to his left as they all smiled warmly at each other and began eating after her father nodded to the servants, thanking them and excusing them out, leaving the three of them together as always.

"So do you have any plans for today, Emma?" Her mother asked as she was reaching over for a slice of bread, and she looked at her; though not coldly, it was just the question she asked her everyday of all the seven days of the week when they had breakfast.

She shrugged, not really sure of what to respond. "I'm not quite decided yet. I do have those lessons with Blue today, though--"

"Oh that's right," David agreed with a smile. "She is coming today. How is the magic going for you, honey?"

"It's going good." She lied. Because her magic had been getting shaky; Something Blue told her was because of her emotions, though she couldn't understand how that could be affecting anything when she was feeling fine. More than fine. "But that's not ti'll later in the day so...I don't know what I'll do ti'll then. Perhaps...take a walk in the gardens, maybe?"

"It is looking extra nice today," Her father noted fondly, nodding his head as he turned his eyes to the window and saw the bright sun hitting the green as the birds sang a little melody that added to the beautiful morning glory. "Summer is definitely my favorite season," he said, and she and her mother smiled at how much more happy he seemed all of a sudden as he turned his attention back to them. "You should do it, perfectly relaxing."

"Yes, or you could go visit Ruby at her bakery." Snow suggests, and she considers it for a moment, thinking maybe she'll do it but somehow knowing she won't because as much as she adored her godmother and all the muffins and cupcakes she baked and made sure to bombard her with every time she went to visit, she just wasn't in the mood for riding all the way out there today.

"You know I am so glad that both her and Granny decided to open that bakery--or more like restaurant because the things they make are  _delicious_ ," David said. "I'm actually really craving one of Ruby's muffins now. You know," he poked Snow in the arm. "the way she used to bring you a whole bunch of them in that basket."

Her mother laughed, in reference to her younger days as a bandit and her friend 'Red' to which many still referred her to as because of that red hood--long gone by now--she always used to wear and that always basket of goodies she made deliveries to that had now become the highlight of a real business and something bigger that Emma saw always had her and her granny smiling.

Emma smiled at her father's teasing.

"So what are your plans for today, mother? father?"

Snow seemed surprised that she would ask but then her whole face illuminated. "Oh! Well today I will just look everything over for our ball tomorrow; It's a lot to prepare and some dishes are still in need of being made, but for the most part it's all alright and ready to go. It's just a matter of seeing any more last minute details, but there's still time, of course. After all it's not until in the afternoon tomorrow so there is plenty of time for everything."

For a second, Emma thought that she would ask her if she wanted to join her, and even waited for the question but she never did so she got back to eating, nodding her head and giving her a faint smile, suddenly not hungry anymore.

Her father cleared his throat, leaning back in his chair. "Well I have a business trip to attend to overseas, but that still won't be for a few days. I'll still be at our summer celebration tomorrow and then after, I leave to pack and head out straight away to go by ship, so that means you and your mother will get some more time together to spend with each other while I'm away."

_I should be happy about that._

Instead she turned to him. "Where will you be going?"

"To Corona. Should only be two or three days at the most. But actually, Emma...I do have something else I would like to talk to you about."

Emma encouraged him to do so, knowing it was serious but at the same time good because of his expression. "What?"

"Your mother already knows about this, and I made the decision yesterday as soon as I got them free, but I was still yet to tell you, honey, and I didn't want you to randomly find them here tomorrow without you having a full explanation or idea of why," David sighed. "Apparently the captain of a ship from one of the kingdoms we make good trade with was holding two boys as slaves, and I caught him in the middle of him giving one of them a cruel beating. He clearly wasn't expecting to see me until more later in the day, but I came upon that and the captain tried to defend it by saying the boys had been freely given to him in exchange for money, and there was even a contract that said the boys still needed to finish 45 more years of service that he deemed to show me. Of course, I couldn't stand for that and now his ship and all his members will never be seen here again, but trade between the kingdom will continue and the captain will face fair punishment for his actions. As for the boys, I have decided to house them here and they will be enlisted into the Royal Navy Academy come September to begin a real education, but meanwhile they will stay here and join us for our meals until the summer ends. They have no family; they're orphans, but their brothers. One of them is actually your age, Emma, and the other is a few years older than him. But all the same, we are happy to have them here."

Emma nodded, putting her hand on top of his to quietly say, "Then I am too."

But in truth, she'd only heard bits and pieces of what he'd just said because her mind had drifted off to the next few days in which her father would be away and she'd be left with only her mother, feeling a sort of dread settle inside her at the thought though she couldn't understand why, but it was there nonetheless and quickly beginning to claw at her even though the day hadn't even really started yet and already doubts were creeping in and even had her considering for a minute to run out of the hall as if it was a natural instinct.

_Foolishness, that's what you're considering._

So instead she pushed those thoughts away and buried down whatever it was she was truthfully feeling--because it couldn't seriously be dread--and remained seated, giving both her parents a smile that showed she'd been listening perfectly attentive to every word.

"Wonderful." Her father concluded.

* * *

 

The night was a quiet one. Half moon high up in the dark blue sky, hanging like a smile over the sleeping town that she was able to make the shape of despite it only being silent silhouettes of the homes of their people; stars were hidden from such a far point of view of just her window sill but she still managed to catch the little twinkles they gave now and then like fireflies lighting up suddenly; and the birds were gone off to their nests, having said goodbye hours ago, and everything just completely still.

She should have been asleep by now.

Everyone else was, after all. And sleep never really came with a trouble, it was just a matter of pulling in the covers despite the hot but still bearable weather and just closing her eyes, falling instantly into some faded dream or no dream at all. But today wasn't similar. Today sleep proved a little harder to come by, which was she'd decided that maybe a little gazing out the window would help, serve to bring her some calmness that her body was apparently lacking, and yet it didn't work the way it probably would have on any other day. It didn't relax her. It didn't calm her. In fact, it seemed to make her more anxious.

Anxious for what? She didn't know. She wasn't sure. But it was clearly affecting her because the sparks and flickers she'd grown to recognize as a child that was her magic inside her veins alive and breathing just as she was, now seemed angry and overly alert, like they could go off at any moment if she wasn't careful and let her guard down for one distracting minute.

But maybe that wasn't the only thing afflicting her, because though her feet left the window and she came down to her knee where her fingers blindly searched under her bed until she felt the small wooden chest, she knew this specifically that she pulled out to settle on the moon's light that filtered in slants wasn't the thing afflicting her at the moment. Or maybe what had been damn afflicting her all day. She didn't know.

She only knew what was inside the chest as her hand took a moment to graze over the wood before gently unlatching it and taking up the top to reveal what was inside. All the letters she and Belle had written to each other back and forth in the year she had left back to her own kingdom. 

Adjusting her position so she sitting cross-legged in a butterfly smile that was very child-like fashion, she stared at the mount, rectangular shaped letters that had a long amount of writing in them--so much that each was at least a full page or two of simple words--but didn't move to open them or at least read the latest one; It was just somewhere in there, she knew it, but it would take hours to find the one that carried the sentence making itself known now. Any other night, she probably would have decided to find the itch and relieve herself of the wondering of that sentence--something about  _Fate_ that Belle had written to her once and spoke of becoming a hero and no one deciding her fate or life except her, or something close to that--but now there was a laziness pulling at her eyelids to shut, and a certain drag pushing down her muscles, making her body feel heavy with tired out of completely nowhere that caused an irritation to rise up because of how suddenly her being WAS begging for sleep.

So instead of going against it, she closed the wooden chest, letters untouched, and then slipped it back under her bed to stand up and practically fall onto the bed in her drastic change to exhaustion, hair going behind her as her head came to the pillow, finally her eyes drooping and breathing becoming slow as her body relaxed into the soft underneath, knowing Belle would be at the ball tomorrow too.

_Perhaps that will bring me comfort._


	2. A Small Favor

Chapter 2: A Small Favor

The very thing that had brought a drag to Emma's body in the night chose to affect her in the morning too, but in a different way , because suddenly her body had woken up alert and surprisingly aware at this early time of this Wednesday--something that was a bit unusual but all the same not uncommon because there were days she did wake up early with only a smudge of tired, and then there were days where her body couldn't even deal with the thought of getting up like yesterday. But this precise thing, that immediately had her magic up and going, was new. Not even one of the guards had come yet to escort her down--the wondering of whether or not Graham would come again only briefly crossed her mind as she took her time getting ready, knowing there was indeed time to spare, and then finally tying the band at the end of her fat fishtail braid with some little strands sticking out at either sides no matter how much she tried to tame them in, did she realize how no one had come yet.

And how truly early it was.

There were days she'd had like this, when she had time to fill, and staring back at the mirror, she realized that she'd always waited for someone to come for her, never once doing something different from the expected routine such as-- _Duh--_ simply deciding to escort herself down and maybe even putting a helping hand in the preparation of their breakfast. It wasn't such a far-fetched idea. She actually wondered why it had never come to her before, or why it was coming now, but she stood up quickly and headed over to the door.

This was different, and yet a big part of her couldn't help feeling slightly joyed and even a bit giddy at the prospect as she made her way down the long, tall, spiraling stairwell and then came to a stop a few feet from the room in which they dined every day, backing into a corner when she noticed the guards standing at the entrance and then realized how silly she was acting because _why the hell am I hiding?_.

It seemed they all had a routine, and the thought of her suddenly breaking it caused a disruption in HER routine: the waking up far too early, the going down without being escorted, the delaying her sleep over a sentence lost in letters, and then this. This of just waltzing in before her parents came in, before her parents were the ones to greet her first, it dawned on her weirdly and made her realize the guards would probably raise their eyebrows and think silent questions she didn't want them to think about.

But why was it such a big deal if she wanted different?. If today she simply felt like doing something different?. She felt stupid, overthinking it all when it should be so easy that she would just walk through the door because she could and because she was a princess and because why should she care if it was out of routine?. And yet she didn't move, instead turning back around to go up the stairwell again to just wait in her room and start the day she always did, but then dismissed it as fast as it came to just go out to the gardens instead as a safer bet because she needed clarity at the moment, and the gardens were definitely her place to think.

_Pull yourself together, Emma._

The roses were the first thing that called Emma's attention before she even fully stepped outside to meet the grass because they were there in plain and forward sight for her to greet; A sense of calm even managed to wash over her and clear away some of the more doubting and pressing thoughts that had accumulated in just the start of the morning, but upon seeing the familiarity of the buds and how lovely and bright they extended in color and in length, it was enough to make her feel at peace and take a seat farther down the long lines of rose after rose, where she was sure no one could see her because the slight tallness of the roses--some barely opening up and others already in bloom--and their uneven proportions in which was open and which was not was enough to keep her hidden and alone.

Hidden and alone-- _That's what I needed._ And maybe it was because her worries and questions that had been plaguing her before, now gave away to the beauty in front of her as she moved to gently caress a petal from the rose more currently in front of her at the very mist of its bloom; at her touch, the rose seemed to respond by lifting what Emma liked to call its 'head' slowly to a more straighter stem and then too quickly, in the middle of her blink, the rose's petal was suddenly out in front of her when seconds ago it had been closed off and barely moving to open.

She smiled.

It was almost like her magic had breathed light into the rose, and she let herself revel in how she enjoyed doing it when she realized that her lessons with Blue hadn't gotten that far yet, and that she probably HAD breathed light to it, because she was a being of light magic, after all. And yet this had come natural, like her own light had just reached out to it and then fell completely. It made her wonder if she could do it again with trying this time, but she immediately decided no, not willing to bring herself to disappointment because she knew it wouldn't work out because she was overthinking it, and that always irritated her magic and left her frazzled. The only reason why it had even come natural right now was because she'd been content.

It seemed that she was never really content, though the answer for why was still a mystery.

Blue, at least, never commented on how slow their lessons were now moving, but Emma knew progress had begun to drift away from her magic, causing a swirl of emotions to flood to the surface that were in no help to her state of mood.

Someone had once told her that magic was about feeling, so she didn't understand why it was so perplexing to her when she felt it all the time. Except it was always slightly out of reach, always there but not there, right in the palm of her hand and never really doing as she wanted it too or at the time she wanted it.

Emma stood up, decidedly turning to go the opposite direction from which she'd entered and then feeling as her pace increased to a more faster now when the gardens slowly fell behind her to the terrain where the stable were at, already her pulse thumping with excitement at seeing her horse and getting on top to ride him as she quickly said her good mornings, ignoring any questioning looks, and instead commanding orders to saddle up her horse and prepare him for a ride that everyone responded to with a "Yes, Your Highness!" as she watched them all move about as fast as they could without bumping into each other until she was handed the reins with the horse now at her side, and she nodded, silently telling him that it was okay to leave and that she could take it from here. The man responded with a smile and bow before turning around to go walk away to tend to the other horses in their keeping as she watched until he was gone, reins still in her hold as her fingers curled into her palm and made a fist, smiling tenderly as she lightly caressed her horse on the side of his face, hand going up and down gently as small safe sparks escaped from her palm and into his skin that made slightly confused but didn't startle back, and then after a few minutes her horse did a sound of happiness that Emma took as a signal to get up.

"That's right, Roger," She chuckled, moving to place her foot on the stirrup. "we are going riding today," with a slight jump for balance, she lifted herself, making sure the dress she'd chosen to wear today wasn't revealing anything of any sort now that she was on top. "and probably tomorrow too because I know you've probably been dying to go out, and well...I guess I have been too."

Footsteps were walking toward her, but she chose to ignore whoever it was to split her reins in two so both hands now had a hold of them, already feeling lighter and happily preoccupied as the thought of going out for a ride early in the morning and with no one around brought a smile to her face.

"Going out for a ride today, princess?" The voice asked as it came to a stop beside her, and Emma looked up.

"Uh, yes, actually," She shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal. "It's a bit out of routine, but well, a ride out with Roger today seemed like a good idea."

"Specially because of the quiet of the morning," Graham added with a smile as his head turned to look out of the stables where the fields were.

Emma nodded, smiling as she looked at them too, knowing she would be out there any second. "Indeed."

Graham turned back to her, "Well enjoy your ride, Your Highness."

"Thank you," She waited for him to step out of the way, but he lingered a minute too long that made her raise an eyebrow at him until he snapped out of it, shaking his head, a bit flushed, and motioning with a swift hand for her to pass. "I will."

"Oh, but breakfast with your parents, Your Highness?"

"What about it?," Her horse continued walking to the space that led out.

"Won't you be joining them?"

Her brow furrowed. "Tell them I decided to go riding early today, and...I genuinely don't know how long I will take. They'll understand."

Graham bowed one more time. "Alright, Your Highness."

And he was off to inform them.

There really wouldn't be a problem about it, right?.

_It's just riding,_ Emma thought with another shrug _and I can survive one day without breakfast._

So that's why all thoughts about missing breakfast and it being a problem with her parents were thrown away as she got into a full gallop, laughing and smiling the entire time as the speed of it caused wind to hit her face and push her braid back, realizing that this wasn't a big deal. And that it was completely natural thing to do as her magic hummed happily throughout field after field, because she had simply decided on doing something different today, and why wouldn't that be okay?.

* * *

 Emma got carried away.

She didn't make it to breakfast and she didn't return for lunch either, but she also couldn't bring herself to care that much about it because she felt as light and free as she'd been hoping it would do to her, so not even returning far too late could take that away as she finally returned through the palace's gates and left her horse at the stables with two extra carrots to then immediately go search for either of her parents to let them know she was back, but she found neither of them and instead was caught by a maid who breathlessly told her that she had been looking for her all over and that the queen had ordered her to help her get ready since the ball would start in under two hours.

She did keep notice in between all that that her mother had just ordered the maids to help her get ready and accompany her through all the rush when on every ball they'd had before, it was her mother who chose to personally help her an accompany her as a means of spending time together, but today she didn't even leave a note or come in even for a minute to check up on how happy she'd returned. She pretended it didn't hurt when the maids told her after the bath that she had to choose which dress she would wear when it had always been her and her mother that settled that matter together, and yet today she chose a red dress without her in remembrance of the roses from the morning that she had wanted to tell her about and then decided she wouldn't.

It was more of a gown than it was a simple dress, compared to the one she'd worn the entire day. But all the same it was one of her favorites as she came to stand in front of the mirror and silently admired the silk soft red sleeves and then the way the neckline was cut low but still kept her in decent even as she revealed collarbone and smooth skin, and all finally leading to the waist where the large skirt puffed up slightly in a subtle way at the hips and was as usual long enough that it covered any footwear she wore; in this case comfortable light red flats for the sake of something less tensing after how tight the corset was that it almost hurt to breathe despite how well it did in keeping her back straight; all of it finally being finished with her hair cast up tight but at the same time carefully kept up in a round bun in the back with a big part of her hair in the front put aside, almost covering one eye but instead only partly covering her forehead in the slightest bit, allowing her emerald eyes to be seen and then highlighted up in their green because of the potent red lipstick and perfectly applied black eyeliner in the basic form and then mascara helping her eyes appear more open and then even a bit more green in the sunlight that streamed in and hit where she was standing.

She managed a small smile and then attended to the knocking at her door that showed the two guards who bored and would escort her down where her mother and father were waiting and probably already greeting friends in, having officially started a few minutes ago but she'd still wanted to take some time before having to face her parents.

Now as she entered the grandness of the large, spacious ballroom, Emma immediately went to her parent's side, eyes flitting around at the already crowded room that was filled enough for everyone to find a potential partner to begin an actual waltz, but she still didn't see Belle among them and upon seeing her mother's crown she realized she'd forgotten hers because suddenly her head felt too light without it, though she hadn't noticed it before until her mother and father were the ones to take notice first and that alone in itself made her stumble slightly in confusing worry over a crown, but deep down she knew it was really because of the anticipation of what they would say about having missed breakfast and lunch even if it had been for a harmless cause.

"Emma," Her mother greeted with a smile that made Emma almost falter in hers because despite seeing a genuine happiness and evident relief that she'd arrive, there was also a tell in her eyes that gave away to another emotion. "you forgot your crown."

"Yeah I know," Emma flushed, biting her lip under the scrutiny hidden under both their smiles but trying to play it off for as long as she could...which could probably end up after the ball. "but I'll go get it later."

David nodded, hands clasped in front of him and turning his head to look at her when he delivered his question. "Did you eat, Emma?"

"Yes," She lied smoothly, a bit of halt in the beginning but he didn't seem to notice as some important people came to shake their heads and momentarily took their attention as they answered with 'Your welcome' and 'Thank you for coming', but she knew he was about to ask something else when his mouth opened and he ended up cut off by a loud and excited 'Emma!' that ringed a few feet away, and she turned her head to the familiar voice, letting out an excited 'Belle!' of her own before she found herself running toward her with her arms open wide as she did the same and then they both collapsed into a hug, faces bright and laughing in their hyper and increasingly happy moods at being able to finally see each other after an entire year.

"I've missed you!"

"Me too, Belle!" Emma exclaimed joyfully after politely greeting her father and then watching as he went to greet her her parents before pulling her in for another tight hug in a not-so-princess like fashion compared to the way she was supposed to greet another princess--and practically soaking in the comfort having her friend back was already providing her.

She waited for her father to give her the nod that confirmed she was free to go around, and then her and Belle headed into the crowd to have a conversation of their own, away from Belle's father and Emma's parents.

"So," Emma turned to her just as the musicians began to play a song. "how have you been?"

Belle beamed, "Good. I have so much to tell you, but..." she inclined her head. "what was that about back there with your parents?"

She was taken back that she had noticed. "What do you mean?"

Belle merely looked at her with a tilt of her head that said ' _Really, Emma?'_ , and Emma sighed. "I could easily tell there was some sort of tension between the three of you."

She internally flinched. "Was it really that obvious?"

"To everyone else, no," Her friend shrugged and then gave her a small smile that proved how much she knew her. "but to me, yes. Your parents weren't doing a very good job of hiding it; you were the most reserved, but I know you, Emma, so I could tell."

Emma was hesitant, thinking over those words for a minute before nodding decisive and raising an eyebrow at her. "Do you really want to be here right now?"

Belle grinned. "Nope."

Emma laughed. "Library?"

"Definitely."

"Okay then," She moved to grab Belle's arm to begin walking their escape. "let's--"

"Wait," Belle stopped her abruptly, subtly looking over her shoulder. "Your mother and father are observing us."

She grit her teeth. "Seriously?"

Obviously they were peeved, but she couldn't understand why they would take to watching her. It rose a feeling of annoyance that this was all because she'd chosen to do something different today and now her consequences were not even being able to enjoy their traditional summer ball before the summer ended. Her mind became set. "

_Oh,yes._

"Stay here."

Belle nodded but she caught the confusion that crossed her face as she watched her move into the crowd of people without any sort of explanation, knowing her parents were still carefully watching her, making her annoyance slowly turn to anger at how stupid this truly was if they chose to avoid straight-forward talk and instead go about pretending.

Her eyes roamed over the room, scanning every possible guy she could choose to help her get her parents out of her back, and then her eyes landed on a young man that didn't seem that much taller than her regular height, if a few more inches, looking so lost and unaware and almost seeming uncomfortable with his surroundings that she smirked, settling on him to be an easy and convincible target.  _Yep, you're the one who's gonna get me out of here._ But as she was just a few feet from reaching him, she stopped shot when she took in  how handsome he was with his dark hair and perfectly cut jawline and full lips and cerulean color eyes that were visible from afar despite how he was looking in some other direction at the moment, but she stayed entranced, feeling as her magic did a little sizzle that her forehead furrow for a second and she regained her composure after having been staring for a beat too long but still unable to take her focus away from the long brown finery coat he wore over a blacker shirt underneath that covered up his chest but was left open enough for Emma to see the bits of hair poking out and making her wander about the more farther down, because even though he was slightly lacking in weight, cheeks perhaps a bit too skinny, he still looked strong and firm in that wear, and that's when she finally snapped out of it despite how her heart accelerated as she got closer and then stopped right in front of him, for whatever damn reason feeling suddenly nervous when he turned his head to her but tried to play it cool when she graciously offered her hand to him, but he was hesitant, not even trying to hide it. 

"Care to do me a small favor?" She would be forever grateful how her words had come out perfectly smooth and without the slightest flinch, telling her her composure had returned and she was back to a good, steady establishment on the floor.

He raised an eyebrow at her still waiting hand, almost amused. "Uh...do you mean to dance?"

Emma shrugged, wanting to appear careless. "Sure, you could say that's what it is."

Now he smirked, and she was a bit take back by it. "Oh really?"

Completely not in her princess dutiful behavior, she rolled her eyes. "I'll fill you in. It's easy and simple. All you do is take my hand and dance a song with me. It won't take up your whole night, I promise."

'Well," He said, stepping up to slide his hand onto hers before gently gripping it to lead her to the dance floor as she tried not too relish too hard in the warmth seeming to naturally vibrate off his skin and onto hers. "I wouldn't complain if it did take up the whole night since the company is fairly, fairly beautiful."

Emma actually blushed at the compliment but kept her focus straight, not wanting him to see the red in her cheeks but knowing he was smiling out of the corner of her eye as they came to a brief stop and without any word at all, his hand went to her waist and hers went to his shoulder.

"So," He inclined his head just as she took the first step back to begin the dance, but he surprised her by stepping back too and then raising an eyebrow that made her wonder if he did that on purpose or if it was just embedded on him. "What, you didn't seriously think I wouldn't start it off, did you?"

"Frankly, no." She said flatly, and that broke a chuckle out of him as her body and feet decided to follow his own , and they followed to the music everyone else was dancing to, easily maintaining pace and flowing movement while also keeping a safe distance between them as she felt her hand slowly inching up to his neck without really noticing she was doing it until their eyes met. "So who do I have the pleasure of dancing with?"

A half-smile appeared. "I think it's more the other way around since you asked me, and you did mention about needing...a favor?"

"Right." Now her voice had gone tight as she looked past his shoulder to where her parents were still watching her as if she would decide to escape the party right at this very moment with Belle at her rushing side in tow, but once the song was over she would escape out of here anyway and deal with whatever they had to say about it later; if luck was on her side, maybe even tomorrow.

"So...was this favor to get back at a jealous ex, or something like that?"

"What?" Her gaze snapped back to him and she scoffed. "No, definitely not. It's just right now I need a distraction so I can appear like I'm enjoying myself and tend to stay here longer, when really, once the two people watching me look away I'll sneak out of here with my friend."

She noticed how a flicker of hurt or maybe...disappointment? crossed his eyes before he quickly covered it up and nodded and then smirked. "Well you are an intriguing, lass, I'll give you that."

"And you still haven't answered my question."

"Oh, right, um..." His cheeks were suddenly burning a very deep crimson that only made him blush harder as he bit his lip. "It's Charles, yes, it's uh...Charles. Charles."

"Charles." She tasted the name in her mouth. It tasted wrong.

"Indeed." By now he was composed, and she simply decided to go with it, because really, he seemed to be harmless even though his name was a lie.

"Alright." Emma conceded, accepting, just as he gave her a spin and she twirled her way back to him until they were both somehow closer now, chest to chest, and she couldn't find it in her to decide if it was appropiate or not, but his thumb moving gently at her waist stopped her from deciding.

"I take it you're not a fan of these parties, then?"

She shrugged. "Only sometimes."

He hummed. "And all those other times?"

Emma thought about that as she saw the other couples and partners around them slowly begin to sway less and less as the remnants of the song they were playing began to die out, but she suddenly found herself tightening her hand on his shoulder and then throwing out a question in all her confusion. "What about you? You, personally, didn't seem to be all that interested when I saw you looking around everywhere."

His eyes sort of sparkled at that, and it coaxed a smile out of her before he said "Did you just reveal that you stopped and stared for a while?"

_Dammit._ That's exactly what she'd done.

"No," Her smile fell to a frown. "of course not. It's just simply how you seemed to the rest of the world, don't give yourself so much credit."

He grinned. "Yes, I wouldn't dream of it."

His grin and response made her laugh, because although it was pure tease they were doing, she had to admit there was  _something_ about him. And that's when she realized the song had ended and another one had begun and they were now dancing in their own little bubble since everyone had switched tactics accordingly, so she suddenly pulled away like he'd burned her when a spark escaped her finger and he just blinked, perplexed, and then offered her a bow that was customary when you finished a dance.

She stood there, waiting for the ' _Your Highness'_ or ' _Princess Emma'_ but he said neither and only raised an eyebrow when she continued to look at him expectant because it never crossed anyone's mind to not say it to her when was part of the royal family, and yet he seemed confused, like he truly didn't understand what she was waiting for. 

Emma let it go. "Uh...well, okay, thanks for the...favor, yeah. Thank you, Charles," She added.

And then she turned away, feeling his eyes on her back as he watched her go, but she didn't glance back, only continued walking straight to where Belle was still standing and now had a huge grin on her face as she finally reached her, and then they both quickly made for the exit now that her parent's eyes were elsewhere, having drifted off in the middle of her and him dancing, and not even being stopped once they were officially out and at the stairwell.

Belle let out a laugh. "What was that about?"

_I'm not sure._

"Nothing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll admit I was left wanting to dance a waltz with someone after writing this...  
> Hope you like their first meeting!


	3. A Proper Truth

Chapter 3: A Proper Truth

It certainly did not feeling like  _nothing_ even as the tall doors to the library slammed shut behind them and they leaned against it for a moment, catching their breaths after having semi-run up the stairs and then down the longer hallway in an effort to not get caught, but Emma still couldn't be sure what was causing the happy little hum going throughout her whole body, completely to the bone, that she came to recognize as her magic doing its own dance whenever it had experienced a momentary please--though if it was because of the exhilaration and excitement that came with having escaped the ball, despite how easy it had proven to be, or if it was because of the spark that had slipped out of her finger in the mist of their closeness, she couldn't be sure but she hoped for the former.

Yes. She hoped it was the former, but magic was unpredictable in many ways because even as all the air was back in her lungs, breathing a steady rhythm of in and out again as she and Belle collapsed into the chairs by the dead fireplace, she found that the happy little hum continued even as the exhilaration and excitement drained from their faces and they were sitting content in the silence, though Emma knew Belle was actually admiring the books in their silence while she was lost in her thoughts of...him.

"Well," Belle stood up with a smile that said ' _I can see you're thinking too hard'_ and then walked over to one of the shelves to bring a finger up to one of the spines of the books while Emma remained seated. "are you going to tell me what's plaguing your mind?"

She rolled her eyes but smiled, even though Belle couldn't see it with her back turned to the shelves. "It's really nothing, Belle."

Belle nodded, humoring her before she snapped her head back and startled her slightly. "You're sure? because it didn't seem like nothing when you were dancing with that guy," she inclined her head in her direction. "plus I don't think he was expecting it any more than I was. I mean I sincerely thought you were just going to throw some lady to your parents and make her have a conversation while we fled the other way."

Emma grinned at that. "As much as I love your creativity, no," she shrugged. "we needed a distraction and I very well told him so when I went up to him."

"Did you get his name?"

Her nose wrinkled. "Charles."

Belle's own nose seemed to twitch a little at the name, but she nodded her head, trying to play her approval off. "Well it's...it's not ugly."

"He lied."

"What?"

"Yeah," Emma shrugged. "It was obvious, but I let it slide. You know what's weird, though?," Belle shook her head, raising a curious eyebrow. "I don't think he knew who I was."

That erupted a laugh out of her as she crossed her arms and leaned against the shelve in all her beautiful golden dress glory. "What makes you say that?"

Emma didn't answer, not really wanting to get into any details, figuring that maybe he was just disrespectful and she was just turning it into a no recognition problem. "Eh, nothing, never mind."

"Well either way, you two looked cute."

She groaned. "Really, Belle? cute?"

Belle broke out another laugh, trying to reason to the face Emma was giving her. "What, cute isn't bad."

"Well cute wouldn't exactly fit into someone that's about to turn twenty in a few months."

She pointed a finger at her. "I'll make sure to tell you that on your birthday."

Emma shook her head, smiling even as she feigned off Belle's teases and fantasies that she could see at play for her as she stood up and went over the fireplace, dropping down to add wood but not lighting it.

"A little bit of cute is good to have once in a while."

She let herself think about that for a minute, but then it fell away instead to how her parents had acted and left her swimming in a sea of worries and questions and hurt she didn't want to admit had gathered there.

"So how long will you be staying?"

"Three days, probably. My father really wants to take a ride on your  _Jewel of the realm_   before he goes, and I can assume he wants to see  some dukes and tradesmen and old friends since he's here."

Emma smiled, turning back to her. "Good, that means we get to hang out."

Belle nodded and smiled before saying "I overheard your father will be headed to Corona?"

She bit her lip and sighed, shoulders sagging. "Yes, and...that reminds me, I think we had two visitors today, it completely slipped my mind, maybe that's why my parents weren't so pleased to see me."

"Two visitors?"

"Yeah," She dropped onto a chair and Belle did the same, attentive and guessing it was going to be a long conversation but Emma didn't intend on that. "Long story, short: we're housing two brothers until September starts and they will leave to the Navy Academy."

"Ooh sounds fancy. And are they...?"

"No, they're not princes'. My father just saw them and decided to bring them here after he witnessed them being mistreated by the person who was their captain."

"Oh, that's horrible," Her brow furrowed in sympathy. 

"Yeah," Emma breathed out and then her eyes fell to her flats prompt up on the small, short round table between them. "and then today when they were coming for the first time, I decided to skip breakfast and then I missed lunch and well...come to think, I haven't had dinner."

Belle chuckled, pressing her lips into a tight line. "So what made you do that?"

"What, exactly?"

"To bail and skip."

She laughed at her choice of wording and then shook her head. "It was just horseback riding, I just got a little carried away. To be honest, I wasn't really thinking when I was doing it--"

"Don't lie."

Emma looked up, eyebrows knitted. "What makes you think I'm lying?"

"Because you do that thing where you glance down immediately before looking up again," She rose a shoulder and then let it drop. "I guess it's not really lying and more like half-truth, but either way horseback riding the entire time doesn't sound like the worse thing you could have done."

Emma nodded, shifting in her seat as she tried to convince herself of that but deep down remaining uneasy while Belle looked at her knowingly. "I still feel guilty, though. I should have been there to greet them and make them feel welcome because that's the very reason why my parents told me about them yesterday, they expected me to be there."

"Emma, I think you're taking this way too hard. And anyway, won't you still be seeing them tomorrow? and the day after that, and then the day after that, and the NEXT day too?"

She smirked, knowing exactly where she was going with this. "Yes, fine, I got it, Belle."

Belle gave her a smirk of her own. "Then stop feeling so guilty, and I actually think this might be a good thing."

She rose an eyebrow. "Me feeling guilty?"

"No," Belle scoffed and then waved her hand. "I meant about having them here. You don't have anyone else to talk to except your parents, so maybe you could keep each other company even if it's just for a month."

Emma slightly glared but it didn't feign her off. "Are you saying I'm lonely?"

"Yes." She was so blunt about it that it made Emma blink in surprise, and then she sighed. "Look, Emma, I get it. I'm an only child too, and trust me, I sometimes prefer the company of friends over books as hard as it is to believe."

"But," Emma began, feeling a protectiveness rise for the little social life she had. "I have you, and I have August, and I-I have my godmother, and...and..."

_Dammit, where are the rest?._

Belle spoke gently and quietly, like soothing a child who was on the verge of tears but not there yet. "Your list falls short, and that's okay. You don't really need a lot of friends, just friends you can trust. But all I'm saying is it wouldn't be a bad thing to have someone else at dinner to ask about your day, other than your parents."

Emma pressed her lips together so tight that it began to hurt seconds later, and then she looked away and Belle didn't say anything more, guessing she had probably gotten through to her. And maybe she had, but that didn't mean that Emma would want to admit. Not believing that seemed easier. But a part of her had thought about that even before she'd brought it up.

"Are you hungry?"

Belle looked up from the book on her lap she had begun sifting through and then shrugged at the sudden question.

"Um...yeah, I could eat."

She grinned, jumping up. "Good become so am I, and I am  _dying_ for one of those muffins they had downstairs."

Belle stood up too, agreeing, and making sure to leave the book on the table in passing as she went to follow Emma out the door and then they both walking in the direction of the stairwell to go down and then make the slight new detour to the kitchen where she knew a big number of muffins would be at the hot and ready, but just as they were at the last step and then starting to set on going to the left to then turn a corner that would lead them to where the kitchen was, she caught sight of two fairly tall shadows walking up ahead but getting closer and closer under the dark lights as she watched and then Belle paused to watch too, waiting for them to change their course to the direction where the ball was being hosted and where faint music could only be heard because of how far away they were, but the two shadows didn't turn around and in fact seemed to pick up the pace faster until they were just a few feet away, not having noticed them standing there yet and seeming very into their conversation by the way their heads were inclined and one of them was doing motions with his hands as if to get his point across while the other was nodding again and again, sounding a little frustated.

Leaning in, Belle whispered. "Are they your guards?"

"Not as far as I can tell..."

She nodded. "Do you think they don't know where the ball is?"

"I'm not sure." Emma whispered back. "but I'll direct them anyway."

By now, the two shadows were only a few less feet away and all she had to do was close the distance, which was exactly what she did as she walked toward them and upon hearing other footsteps, the two young men looked up, conversation dying on their lips when they fully caught sight of her coming with a polite smile on her face, and just as the 'Hello, are you two lost?'  came out of her mouth, she stopped short and one of the young men froze.

"Charles!" She blurt out and the other young man beside blinked at the name and slowly shook his head while the one in front of her had his eyes gone wide and lips slightly parted while she continued to stare at them, and Belle just stood there, looking confused as her eyes went to Emma and then flit to them back and forth.

"I'm sorry, what? who's Charles?," The one standing next to her dancing partner asked, eyebrows knitted as he looked between all of them, trying to figure out who she'd been talking while Belle suddenly muffled a laugh into her hand and it only made the air around them grow more awkward.

Emma bit her lip. "Uh..."

"Um, I think what Princess Emma meant was about this guy named, uh, Charles, that she danced with a short while ago, and he was such a good dancer that she was still thinking about him now and oops, you know, ended up saying his name out loud in all her excitement, " Belle finished with a smile.

"Uh, yes," She let out a nervous laugh while the said 'Charles' had a little smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, and she knew he wanted to raise an eyebrow by how it twitched, but he still stood there, face trying to remain blank as she could feel a heat come to slowly creep into her cheeks. "Thank you for clarifying that, Belle."

_And for giving me away._

"You're welcome."

"Wait, you're the princess?!" Recognition finally dawned over the other young man's face and he was suddenly even more fidgety on his feet as he stumbled to compose himself, running a hand over his curls and then slapping the arm of her dancing partner to shake both their heads and then bow when she answered 'Yes'. "Well I'm sorry for the intrusion, Your Highness, we didn't mean to interrupt anything between you and your friend--"

"Belle, please." Belle cut in gently, and he smiled politely to her, nodding.

"Yes, Belle, our apologies, but my brother and I were just heading back to our guest rooms for the night and...we haven't been properly introduced."

"No, I'm afraid not," Emma started but then her eyes went wide as she realized who they were and why they were so important to her parents to be allowed to the guest rooms at all. "OH, you're the two brothers that my parents told me were coming! I'm sorry, I didn't know, I wasn't present for breakfast today and neither was I for lunch and dinner, of course, was all the food at the ball, but wow, oh my god, you're...you're the two coming to stay at our palace, yes. Yes."

And then another realization came.

_I danced with one of our guests, I think I flirted with one of our guests. My magic liked one of our guests._

"Oh my god..." She whispered, slightly breathless as her and her dancing blue-eyed partner met eyes, and he was looking at her with a hint of amusement but mostly worry.

_Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap._

"Is something wrong, Your Highness?" The curly-haired brother asked and she snapped her head to him, momentarily out of her panicked/surprised thoughts as they scattered when she turned her attention to him and tried to answer.

"No," She blinked, trying to make her voice assuring, not affected. "I just...didn't catch your names, that's all."

"Oh, well let me introduce you. I'm Liam Jones, at your service, and this is my brother," He turned to motion to the one standing beside him, who was seeming to do everything to avoid her gaze as subtly as possible. "Killian Jones."

Finally, he met her eyes again, this time with a shy smile that made her serious facade almost break.

"Killian," Emma nodded, and a small smile of her own came out. "It suits you."

Surprise crossed over his face briefly before he cleared his throat and said, "Thank you, Your Highness."

"Well," She sighed. "You should be getting back to your rooms now so can rest and meet us for breakfast tomorrow. Do you need help getting there?"

"No, no," Liam responded. "we remember the way back, thank you though." He bowed and then gave her a smile. "Goodnight, Your Highness. Goodnight, Belle."

Both of them bid him a quiet goodnight, but Liam waited for his brother, and Killian acted immediately, bowing to them and first saying goodbye to Belle but lingering in front of Emma with a shy smile that made her want to slap him, even though under that layer he was portraying, she could see actually worry in his blue eyes.

"Goodnight, princess."

She didn't know why when he called her 'Princess' , it sounded different, but it did and she immediately shoved whatever it was that was causing her magic to bubble and just bid him a formal 'goodnight', watching him go with his brother until she couldn't really see him anymore.

Once they were out of earshot, Belle squealed, tugging at her arm and making her stumble slightly over her own feet as she turned to her and covered her mouth, but Belle grinned anyway.

"Are you mad, Belle?! Do you want them to hear us?!" Emma half yelled-whispered.

She shook her head but was grinning so wide that Emma eventually just removed her hand in utter frustation and let Belle laugh it out as she rolled her eyes.

"Wow," Belle mused. "fate is funny like that, don't you think?"

Emma just blew out a breath, raising a skeptical eyebrow that clearly questioned  _Fate?_ and crossed her arms before the sentence she'd been looking for yesterday suddenly crossed her mind, and she had to shake it away because by now she was annoyed and a little overwhelmed and perhaps flustered by her circumstance.

"Come on," She turned around, waving her to follow even though she knew the way by heart now. "let's go get those cookies."

"I thought it was muffins."

"Yeah, well now it's cookies."

Yes, she was flustered. Yes, she was.

* * *

Emma was currently unsure which would have proven more awkward: If she hadn't found out yesterday that the person she'd danced with had lied right to her face about being her guest along with his brother and THEN finding out at breakfast the next morning, or if having found out yesterday would definitely make this breakfast--now the following morning and no bailing this time--all the more uncomfortable as her heart was anticipating the minute she sat down to join them.

Everyone was already there, the guard made her aware on their way down, so she only swallowed back her dread and plastered on a smile when she entered and saw that they were all, indeed, already sat down; Snow and David at their usual spots while Killian and Liam had taken the two chairs next to her mother, leaving her to sit at the seat she always sat on and feeling a sense of comfort when she saw that Belle was waiting, sitting on the chair next to her empty one; There really was no conversation going as she walked toward them with that smile still in place, and her father was the one who took notice of her first when he stood up and greeted her with a kiss to the forehead and her mother followed by giving her a kiss to the cheek that she accepted with hesitation, and then continued to uphold that polite smile when both Killian and Liam stood up to bow, and Belle just smiled at her as she began pulling out her chair to take her place but Snow stopped her.

"Wait, wait, your father and I didn't the chance to introduce you to Killian and Liam Jones here. They're the ones who will be staying with us for--"

"Actually, Your Majesty," Liam interrupted slowly but her mother smiled her approval for him to go on. "we've already been introduced."

"Oh you have?" Snow looked between Emma and the brothers, a steady and level gaze that was gentle and completely free of any suspicion as Liam nodded, and she just sat there saying nothing; Killian equally silent, though she was beginning to wonder if this was his natural character.

"When?" David asked.

"Yesterday." Belle informed. "When Emma and I left the ball for a little bit, we bumped into them in the hallway."

"Of course," Her mother started with a clear of her throat and briefly sending a pointed look to Emma that clearly spoke of her displeasure. "after you  _left_   the ball early."

She knew then that a good long discussion about that was coming, but she also knew her mother would prefer to talk to her behind closed doors and not in front of two recently joining strangers, so instead of making breakfast an uncomfortable air for the both of them, she just responded 'Yes' and her mother smiled, saying ' Well that's wonderful' and then they all moved in to begin eating once all the little pastries and dishes had been set for them to pick from.

It was quiet, but not a comfortable one.

Even the few times Belle had been able to come visit over the year, they were still able to engage in a good, light conversation that brought out smiles and laughter, but today, it felt tense, and Emma knew it was because no one knew what to say--frankly, she definitely did not know what to say--despite the first attempts of her mother to spark something up but it quickly died out since everyone appeared to want to be more focused on their food, and the brothers themselves seemed uncomfortable in their positions since now and again she could see one of them hesitate or sort of want to shrink away by the way they moved so slow even though Killian's body movements seemed to want to rush but he neutralized.

Despite attempts to concentrate on her food, she still found herself very much looking over to the brothers, eyes flitting back and forth like an impatient hummingbird as the gears in her brain seemed to want focused on them, though she refused to openly stare-- _as much easier that would be--_ and ended up with quietly observing in the subtle of ways by sneaking little glimpses at them here and again while everyone else still put all their attention to their plates; It was almost funny to see how different they were from each other but similar in the range that their noses leaning toward a pointy build but still not quite there as it seemed to go down in a slim line instead, eyes the same blue that you could easily get lost into, and the way their chest seemed to be of the exact similar mass by the way it slightly puffed out and gave away the strain of whatever tasks they'd been forced to undertake because of how their heads always seemed to bend down and their back immediately following with them while their shoulders sagged with them too, as if they were constantly looking down all the time; Yet compared to the similarities, the differences extended to a number of things such as Liam's curly dirty brown hair and Killian's dark, dark black hair that was messy and like he'd run his hand through a dozen times by the way it was ruffled while his brother's was kept tame and flat. And then there was the hues of their skin because while Killian was lighter, Liam's was a slightly darker, orange kind of shade, like he'd been in the sun for a great number of times , and then there was the matter of their cheeks because while they were both slim and drooped by the lack of sleep and food, she could tell that once their health was restored Liam's cheeks would gain their small square shape and Killian's would stay the same but become firm and steady strong at the cheekbone, making his smile far more shining as he did. But finally there was the hands, because they both seemed rough and cut and with lashes of something that left the flesh of their palms swollen and the skin at the top of their hand was bruised, they still managed to retain some of the meat and blood in there despite how skinny their fingers were that she was surprised she hand't noticed when Killian's hand had slipped into hers during the dance but...she had come to notice even through the song, there had been a roughness that she'd been aware of the entire time their hands were joined but at least know she knew exactly why. And it still embarrassedly made her admit to herself that despite everything, they were still clearly succeeding in their looks and the radiant charm that both of them seemed to give off even though one brother was quiet than the other.

"So," David interrupted Emma's watching, snapping her attention back to him. "do you two girls have anything planned for today?"

"Uh, yeah," Belle turned to her because this clearly an out of nowhere idea now that he'd asked. "I was thinking Emma could take me to those gardens by the school grounds. I used to always go there to read during the breaks and then Emma began accompanying me. It was very peaceful."

"Sounds nice," Snow quipped, nodding as she reached for the basket of bread and Liam helped her by passing it over with a fairly careful smile.

"Yes!," Emma tried to reign in her enthusiasm to get out of the palace. "It's a good idea, Belle, we haven't been there in a long time--not since you left, I think. We can take a few books to read out there as well."

Belle immediately nodded to that idea and eyes glint with excitement at the prospect of taking books with them. "ooh, yes, we should."

"You've turned my daughter into a bookworm." David chuckled lightly at his teasing, and they both shrugged, giving off chuckles of their own in agreement as he set his fork down. "would you like to take one of the carriages to get there?"

"No," Emma responded quickly. "we can take horses. Right, Belle?"

"Of course."

"Alright, then," David said, though she caught the hesitance in his voice as he arose from his seat, wiping at the corners of his mouth with a napkin and then setting it on the table as a servant came to clean his place and he smiled his thanks. "Well, I'm off to begin packing my things for Corona. Have a good day, girls."

Her father then left after giving Snow a kiss to the cheek and pressing one to Emma's hair as he passed by, reminding Killian and Liam to not forget to attend lunch, and then almost two minutes later, Emma and Belle stood up, saying their 'See you later' as they turned to walk out while she tried to avoid looking Killian's direction but somehow still caught his eye and then looked away, urging Belle forward.

Once they were out, Emma released a sigh of relief that made Belle smirk, shaking her head at how much she wanted to get out of the palace.

"Thank you, Belle, you just saved me a discussion that I was supposed to get."

Belle rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "It's bound to happen anyway."

"True," She agreed, tilting her head as if she was just now considering it. "but not for a while, so that's all that matters, just take your time sightseeing and you save me the day."

"For the record, I DO want to go to the gardens."

"Great!" Emma grinned, grabbing at her arm as her feet began to pick up pace and then she was sprinting up the stairs to the library. "because so do I, come on, let's get the books," 

"Wait Emma, I can't run with these!"

Without even thinking about it, she waved her hand and then suddenly felt Belle shrink to her regular height, almost toppling them backward when she gasped and tried to readjust, quickly moving to grasp the railing as they both saw that her heels had been replaced with comfortable flats the color of a golden yellow.

"Did you...?"

"Yep." She confirmed, and Belle blinked, looking back. "and before you ask, no, I don't think I can bring those heels. What just happened was more like...on the natural side, sorry."

"And you really can't do it again?"

"Nope."

Belle thought about that for a moment and then grinned. "Okay let's go!"

 


	4. A Questionable Foresight

Chapter 4: A Questionable Foresight

Turning the page, Emma sighed, holding her book of choice in her hand for a few minutes before her eyes drifted to the numerous different type of plants and flowers they were seated in the middle of. Some were actually dangerous but nobody had ever bothered to cut them down to take them away as far as Emma had observed, instead they continued growing and blooming the summer and gaining and sprouting their beauty throughout all of the spring season when it rained the hardest and ugliest, and she figured maybe this was the reason why they decided to keep them there. Because other than the fact that only her and Belle were the ones who seemed to come here, it was also how the plants and flowers themselves were so truly beautiful that you just found yourself gazing distractedly at them when you saw them. That's how it was for her, at least. Every time she came, at one moment or another, she always had to stop and stare because it pulled her in, though she refrained from touching their leaves or petals even if lately she'd come to wonder if maybe touching them wouldn't bring her any harm or poison of the sort, but instead help spring more life into them just the way she'd accidentally done with the rose.

Except that was thing.

Every time her magic came to do something, it was when she wasn't ready, when she wasn't thinking, when she was caught-off guard and only seeming to be driven by emotion. And that, very specifically, is what made her annoyed and frustated because there had once been a long row of years when her magic had done her completely bidding whenever she wanted and at the exact moment of time that she wanted it, having come and gone, and come and done, and had brought her a very happy progress in which her lessons passed faster and faster and not the tiniest bit of control slipped away from her because she held it all in there and felt as it danced through her veins, flowing through her blood like a little excitable tickle, always at the ready to do as she pleased, Blue applauding her and telling her a job well done, congratulating her for the amazing tame she was demonstrating with this power she'd been born with.

And then it stopped.

Her progress undid itself, and too be honest she couldn't remember the exact day or time when it really began to fail her, but one day it failed her so big that Blue had decided that maybe a few weeks off would do her some good. But it didn't. She came back to it, and the disappointment and frustation grew more and more until she just came to dread the hour when she had to practice, never nothing new anymore because suddenly it was her going backwards, unable to figure out why when she'd been doing so well and then the one thing she looked most forward to in her day was now the one thing she couldn't understand when she so clearly remembered understanding it like it'd been yesterday, right there at the palm of her hand and humming inside her body but not able to grasp it firmly as she should be able to by now because that's what Blue thought, despite the fact that she would never say it out loud, Emma knew the words  _you should be able to_ were right there on the tip of her tongue and reflected in her eyes so often now that she actually wished she would just spit it out and finally admit the torture they'd both been going through.

But her teacher didn't, so neither did she. And in a way it brought her a little hope, that perhaps if she hadn't chosen to admit it out loud yet then it meant that she was getting better--slow progress but better all the same, even if it was taking up so much time to master the things she'd flown so easily through before and gotten it like it was just a quick snap of her fingers, nothing challenging at all. Yet she was seeing it, feeling it, and living it that they were making no progress towards anything better or new, simply in the same thing, blocked by some wall that, although it didn't push her back any further, it made her sure to keep her at a pause.

It stayed at a pause.

Emma honestly wondered how long it would take until Blue finally got irritated and realized that this had to be more than a huge barricade she was experiencing, but something more and equally as powerful as her light magic that it was making it successful in drawing her back again and again, leaving her to seriously wonder what the hell she was able to do now that her magic only came when it wanted, and very well proved to be at the most unnecessary of times when it was useless and made her feel just as week and useless as it was showing to be.

 She glanced over at Belle, who was too immersed in her own book to realize that she'd stopped reading hers, and a brief smile crossed her face when she remembered that was how she'd met her, exactly like that and even her clothing today was similar in color to what she'd wore that day when she found her.

Closing her eyes, her mind gave her a clearer image, though the correct details and traces would forever be at a loss to her except when she had been there in the moment, even the Emma of her two years ago never would have guessed that stumbling through some exotic garden, partly angry and spirits sort of low, would have ended up meeting her best friend; a person that, in truth, she never would have guessed would later become her best friend over the course of Autumn, Winter, Spring, and Summer.

The thing was she already knew Belle--from afar at least, because despite knowing who she was and seeing her at school and at royal balls that her parents hosted now and again, countless times, she'd never actually talked to talk her, which was what Emma would consider in the first step of  _knowing_ someone--as so many freely said it--, when you actually talked to them and not just there waiting for a sign from Zeus to get your damn bearings in place and go make some damn friends. But at first, she'd considered Belle a hard person to approach because at almost every ball she attended, she always stood off to the side, not dancing with anyone or even going in to just dance with herself. Instead Belle just watched their classmates and other guests be led to the dance floor and the table that held all the refreshments and exquisite different plates that held all sorts of varieties, so that no one would bump into her or ask her to step aside so they could get to the food. She was just choosing to be alone, and Emma wondered why until she realized that she was doing the exact same thing only a bit more subtly while Belle made it more prominent and open. Later she would find out that Belle actually did like the balls and that each time she'd seen her, it'd simply meant she was having fun. 

Emma had actually been threatened to laugh at that, because how could a person standing there with a grave face on, observing others like a stalker, say that she was having fun?. It made no sense to her, but she didn't bother questioning it further, sort of afraid of what she would end up hearing. Later she would find out that it wasn't really watching that she was doing, more like thinking, and she would come to realize that it was true to some extent because of the almost same expression her face would naturally turn into without her noticing when she dove deep into a scene and stayed there, happily trapped in her thoughts of what she felt and what she read. But really she wouldn't have a single clue of any of this if she'd never accidentally stumbled into her hiding place at a time when she, herself, needed a hiding place, and then that finally came to set things in motion from there up until date, it was still their same hiding place from 2 years ago.

_It's just a bad day, Emma thought, just a bad day._

_But really, it'd been a consistency of days that had been bad so far, and this one could take the cake because she could feel the cramps twisting and turning everything in her stomach, giving her the feeling that she was bloated though she was extremely far from being pregnant, and yet it was pooling around like she was drowning inside herself. It gave her a chance to breathe normally for a second and then almost mockingly pulled her back in for another round of pain while she was in the middle of class, trying to concentrate on whatever it is the teacher was speaking about literature, but today just proved to be hard because it came and went like waves that prided themselves in having brought tides that were as sharp as pointy knives that poked at her, taunting, making her waiting even though she knew the wait wouldn't be very long when another wave came in and knocked her over so deeply that tears rose to the surface of her eyes when her forehead hit the desk and if she so much as blinked, those rising tears would fall and everyone would notice that Princess Emma was at the edge of crying and unable to handle a little bit of cramps on the days when she had to get them like every other girl suffered through them but at different dates._

_So instead she closed her eyes and let them come, one by one, and one after the other, she just stayed still, with her cheek resting against the cool surface, it helped her feel something much better even as her whole body grimaced and she grit her teeth since no one could see, allowing herself this moment where she felt the annoyance and frustation, not even letting herself enjoy listening to the topic she liked best, and instead of holding in the facial expressions that threatened to escape her, she let them out into the open where no one could see because it was thankfully at the back end of the classroom and facing a wall, and if the teacher chose this minute to call on her because he thought she was sleeping in the middle of his teaching then...so be it._

_When the bell rang she actually breathed an embarrassing sigh of relief that the hour was over and she could get out to take in fresh air, because although the glass windows were open and a gentle breeze had blown her hair back now and then, it still wasn't enough and she simply needed to get out of here for the lunch time--just the lunch time and she would be fine. She would stay and go through the rest of this day without a single complain to anyone, and then she would get home and go about it the same way, because her parents were not about to drop their duties and responsibilities to the kingdom to send a royal carriage to bring her back to the palace and relieve her of the rest of the day to instead spend it drinking a nice warm cup of tea in bed in the mist of all her fat pillows. Frankly she didn't want them to._

_This was her only duty and responsibility, and she wasn't about to back up on it because she couldn't handle a little bit of pain that she was sure would only last for a short while now. Her parents never did that, never backed out because it was a bad day and they felt they just couldn't take it. No. They were brave and firm. And that's exactly how she would be too, brave and firm, even if leaving the cafeteria wasn't a brave thing to do because she was slightly scared, even after all these years, to sit in a room full of other people, and the only firm thing she managed to do was let her feet lead her out until the air outside filled up her lungs and then continue leading her further away from the building, absentmindedly following wherever her mind was choosing to go because her eyes weren't the ones in control or aware of the direction she was heading._

_So she startled a bit when her body came to a stop in front of the entrance to the vast garden that had been there, a few feet away from the building at the most, for as long as she could remember, often having seen gardeners tending to the flowers and plants with a careful hand covered by the gloves they always made sure to wear because she once heard one of them had learned the hard way, and she saw them at least once a week from the window on the fifth floor, looking like little ants from where her gaze drifted off to them to where they watered and hacked away the dead stuff, mostly in the middle--the heart you would say--of the entirety of the green where most of the plants and flowers were bunched up together, entrapped and coinciding off each other at the same time in the way that made them spread and grow fuller and wider and extend longer distance that it was like it had just slowly created itself until they decided to just call it a garden, even though it was definitely more like a maze you could get easily get lost in by the way it looked from above as she stared down at it in its deadly glory._

_That's why she was more surprised when she found Belle sitting there, right at the very turn of the corner of the entrance, sitting so still that it made her almost scream at the fear that she'd just found a dead body in the garden, but once she took in the book in her hand and the sandwich halfway past her mouth and the way she say with her legs set out straight in front of her with her back leaning against the bush, the books of literature and mathematics next to her on their own spot on the grass, was when Emma realized that she was very much alive and not dared as she'd feared, telling herself that it was safe not to panic and then telling herself what an embarrassing situation this was because by now Belle had looked up, startled by her jump, and was now staring back at her curiously, not the least bit afraid she'd just been caught having lunch here, and in fact showing a hint of amusement that Emma was the one who's cheeks were burning at having caught her so freaking out of nowhere._

_"Uh, hi." She managed to get out and was responded by a nod and hesitant smile that still seemed unsure of what she was doing here._

_I'm wondering the same thing..._

_"Yeah, um, hi, Emma." Belle actually smiled this time but it looked more like a grimace, and Emma figured it was because she was worried that they would get caught now that she'd found--or more like wondered into--her hiding place, but she tried to assure her with a smile of her own that (surprise, surprise) felt like a grimace too because it chose that moment to bring her an ugly tide when she was aiming to show her that it was okay and that no one had noticed her slipping out since...they were allowed to leave for lunch time and go into town instead for whatever choice of food they preferred, which was why half the room had been empty, and yet it still flared up a nervousness to be there._

_"So, uh, what are you doing here?" She asked and then wanted to scoff herself because really? What was she doing, trying to make small talk?. It was already awkward enough without having to make Belle point out the obvious. She didn't even feel like a princess, stumbling on words and being too afraid to sit in a stupid room by herself for an hour when it wasn't even a big deal and others did it all the time, so why couldn't she? so why was it so hard?._

_Belle shrugged, "Just reading."_

_"Oh." She nodded, letting out a forced laugh that only brought out a perfect settlement of silence between the two of them. Clearing her throat, she continued and wished she'd just stopped at the former. "yeah, that's great. Reading is...great."_

_A minute or two passed when she didn't say anything, and Emma just stood there, knowing she should have retreated a long time ago, but then Belle raised an eyebrow, tilting her head, opening her mouth and then closing it a few times, visibly showing her hesitance each time it seemed like she was going to speak but didn't until she finally asked. "Do you want to join me, Emma?"_

_Her quick 'Yes!' as she dropped to the grass next to her should have been cause for more embarrassment, but weirdly, she didn't feel it, because it turns out they were both in need of a friend that day._

And then it had just become their place when she and Belle ended up sticking closely together afterwards, eventually coming to sit at the same table during lunch time and heading into town at least twice a week , until it slowly became inviting Belle to hang out on the weekends and she suggesting some of her favorite books for Emma to read, most of the time spent on reading and holed up in her palace's library with cookies and tea by the fireplace during the colder months and then decidedly riding out to some familiar lake in the summer months to read there too, but still they always came back to the garden. 

But then Belle's year at Misthaven was up and so was that nice friendship time they'd found in each other because soon she returned back to her kingdom and her father, and Emma was alone again. Except after she left, the solitude was different. A part of her felt brave enough to go sit at that same table they used to sit together at, and a part of her felt brave enough to go into town without her by her side. So she went with that part and did it, admitting to herself that it was hard for the larger part of the year but eventually getting used to it and even learning to like her time alone, appreciating it sometimes. She only liked it though. She didn't love it. And Belle understood this through the letters they took to writing over the course of the next year.

She thought about this now.

And how she had to face her final school year come September without Belle there again.

Emma sighed involuntarily, and Belle looked up.

"What's wrong?"

"Just thinking about September."

Slowly, she nodded, pressing her lips tightly together and then quietly admitting. "Yeah, me too."

"Really?" There was surprise despite herself.

"Well it doesn't help that were literally sitting BY the school building."

Emma shrugged, sort of agreeing, and then her forehead wrinkled in curiosity. "Why DID you pick this place?"

Belle was silent for a few minutes, palm coming to rest on the grass as her book was left in her lap, fingers toying with the blades of green while her hand briefly grazed the cover of what she'd been currently reading. "It was kind of like my little safe haven for the first few weeks I was here, and it was quiet and peaceful, letting me be apart for a while at least until I had to go back in, but...you know I'd been looking for some peace of mind back then."

She nodded because she did know, and two years she still remembered that conversation as sad as it had been.

"Yeah," Emma whispered. "I know."

The tears didn't immediately form in Belle's eyes anymore, but she still remembered how they did and how they fell once she took that deep breath, as if finally giving herself permission to let go; Now the girl in front of her was different. She didn't take that deep breath Emma had seen her do so many times before, and no tears came at all this time, but she just slightly sniffed and smiled like what they were talking about didn't bring out the broken in her.

_You're stronger now._

She shook her head. "So, uh, what's next?"

"Uh..." Belle teased with a raised eyebrow. "me going back home, I think?" and then she finished that last word with a strained chuckle.

She tried not to dwell too much on that and instead continue with what she'd really been asking. "No, I mean that's obvious, yeah, but what I mean is...after this, after school ends, it's our final year, so after just...what is there next?"

"You become queen."

That made Emma lean back in her spot when she took in those three words and blinked against realizing how true that simple but heavy statement might be. "Huh," She breathed. "I guess you're right, I just hadn't really thought about it lately."

Like  _really_ hadn't thought about it lately.

She'd known that day would come, of course. She was a princess after all, and deep down she knew it would soon arrive as year by year she grew up more, and then it had simply never come to mind, having gotten lost somewhere on her rides out and excited runs through the palace's hallways, being blocked out and being broached out now for her to realize  _This is what you're supposed to do, Emma_ because really, had there been any chance of that being different? of that changing? of that not ever being what she was supposed to be since the day she was born?. No. It had always been that, and it hit her harder than it should.

Belle's shrug cut through her swirling haze, and she realized that Belle was also supposed to become that but didn't seem affected; In fact, she seemed content with it.

"Do you want to?"

Belle looked at her. "What?"

"To become queen."

"Truthfully?"

Emma nodded.

"No."

She was left perplexed at such a blunt answer, somehow having expected her to lie. "Then what do you want to?"

Belle inhaled and then a wide smile broke over her entire face. "I want to see the world."

"You want to explore." It sounded more like a question coming out of her mouth than a real fact based on Belle's excited eyes at the prospect, and it made Emma wonder how she hand't noticed this. Why hadn't she realized that this was her dream?.

"Oh but it's more than that, Emma."

Her excited words brought curiosity to Emma because when she heard 'I want to see the world' her mind immediately went to traveling and leaving and packed up bags with a map in your hand and a single compass in the other, but that wasn't it here. Here it went deeper.

"How?"

Belle's eyes seemed to drift off to some fantasy only she could see as she began to talk, hands going wild in motion as she straightened up and the words spilled out like an endless running fountain. "It's knowing places, and living ad breathing those places and having the satisfaction of knowing that they do exist, and that they are just as beautiful and amazing as you heard them described, but this time you get to see it with your own eyes and you'll have this feeling as you look over the place, seeing that you found your way there all on your own and that for those small minutes it's you having seen a small glimpse that the world can offer because there will be so many other glimpses, and you want to go see those glimpses too because there just there waiting for you to get there and you are willing and determined to make it even if its your last day or maybe even last breath because what matters is that you were on your way, and in the end all that pain and all those hardships you faced through your life, you don't even think about it because you're just focused on getting there that everything else just falls away behind you, and that drives you.

It drives you, and then you leave pieces of yourself in that place you visited, and you take pieces of that place with you too. So you're different and it touches you so deeply that you're still you but you'll always be carrying the journey inside you even when you finally make it back home."

Emma was in awe. "Wow. Belle, that's...that's really expensive, how long have you thought about this? it's so...so telling, I don't even know what to say to something like that, it's just...for how long have you wanted this?"

"I think maybe since I was a little girl and first began to read," She noticed Emma's knitted eyebrows and skeptical silence so she picked up her book and turned the cover to her, tapping it twice. "This is more than just a book. It's helped me see, it's told me about these places, and its opened up doors that you don't even know exist but that there there, in between the pages, and I want to go in between those pages and experience what they feel when they step through because that to me is the best way to live. You might see this book as words and a nice blue covering and endless pages of white, but it's more. You might think that for me it's a way to escape, but it's not. It's hope, it's an opportunity, and I think you also deserve something like this other than what you've been told you're supposed to do."

"But someone else wrote it..."

"So? That doesn't make it any less true. It makes it human, to want to tell and add other things that weren't part of it because they're what you wished for at that time and what you wanted."

Emma sighed. "It's just..."

"You lack a lot of faith."

She chose to ignore that. "Will you do it?"

Belle sighed. "I'm not sure. As I said, you will become queen and so will I one day."

"But that's still a long way away."

She smiled sadly. "Maybe not long enough," and then the smile visibly brightened, bringing one to Emma's face. "but I won't give up on it. It's my dream, after all."

A beat or two passed of them in silence but then Belle spoke up.

"Emma, what's your dream?"

"Hmm?"

She hadn't really been lost in thought, she'd actually heard perfectly but didn't know what to answer because now she found herself asking the same question internally and finding nothing, a complete blank.

"Your dream. What is it?"

"I, uh...honestly, Belle, I'm not sure, I don't know."

She was beginning to feel a rise of frustation at the question, and Belle could tell because she just nodded and dropped the subject, only finally asking before she officially closed it for the rest of their day until Emma felt ready to broach it again.

"Emma?"

"Yeah?" She looked over at Belle but her eyes were glazed over with there but not there.

Belle smiled, putting a hand on her arm to help bring her back to the present, which worked successfully. "When you figure out your dream, can I be the first to know?"

"You'll be the first to know." She promised.

* * *

They all gathered the next morning to watch her father off because just as he'd said, he would be going to Corona, and already his packs for changes of clothing were on board in the special given room that had been designed for royal, much cleaner and nicer than all the other cabins, and the crew ready, just waiting for him to give command to leave so they could begin going about into the sea while his five guards stood on the main deck to accompany him on the trip there; Though nothing bad ever happened on his way to any destination, Emma still worried even though her mother assured her that her father could take care of himself and the guards were just a small precaution as a king because the rest of the royal guard was left to her and her mother and Graham was personally assigned by David to watch over his daughter and wife.

The short ride to the docks had been uncomfortable with all of them sort of smushed up together to fit in one carriage even though they could have simply ordered for another, but her mother had insisted one could do and so Emma had to go through the 20 minutes with Liam sitting on her right, trying not to get too close to her and being very mindful of not accidentally wrinkling her dress while Belle observed from her left side, occasionally watching Liam squirm and fidget slightly even though he tried to suppress while Killian simply stared out the window, not moving an inch as his eyes seemed lost on the landscape passing by, all the while next to her mother and father as they, too, looked out the window but with joined hands.

Now a half of her was sad that the next 20 minutes on their way back to the palace would be without her father, and other part relieved that it would allow more space and maybe help some awkwardness off even though that was just wishful thinking if dinner yesterday and breakfast today was any indication. So instead of beginning the dread of the ride back and then 2-4 journey, depending on Corona's king and how fast they settled business, she watched her mother step up and pull her father down for a kiss in front of everyone and then caress his cheek with her thumb as she whispered something too low for anyone to hear but them, and then walk back to where she'd been standing after another lingering kiss that made a small smile appear on Emma's face, witnessing their exchange and their obvious love for one another that still burned bright after all these years.

"Come back home." Emma said to his shoulder when he moved to wrap her up in a tight hug, hand immediately going to cradle her head as she closed her eyes like she was still 7 years old and not 19.

"I will, honey." He replied when he pulled away and put a kiss to her forehead, smiling and then nodding firmly before turning around to shake Killian and Liam's hands with a smile and giving one to Belle too until he finally decided to signal that it was time to leave, and the crew immediately went about to release the ship once he was officially on board and then waving to her and her mother as he became farther and farther away from the docks.

The dread she'd felt when he had told them he would be leaving opened up again after having momentarily closed for two days, and then it became way more wider and evident inside her when her mother turned to face her and asked the awaited question.

"Emma, could I speak to you?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Emma and Snow's discussion and some actual Killian and Emma talk and closeness!   
> Thank you for everyone that's read this story so far and left kudos! See you again for the next four chapter!


	5. A Future's Ask

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, back with the story! Hope you like it!

Chapter 5: A Future's Ask

To be fair, she knew it was coming. And to be fair she also knew it was going to be sometime after her father was gone, even though she wished he could have at least been present when her mother sat down for the talking because his presence help calm her and quench the nerves that always sprouted when she knew she was in trouble and had to sit through her mother's speeches about doing good next time and mindful actions.

Of course this was going to be one of  _those_ kind of speeches, and she couldn't deny there was a sense of irritation that she would have to sit there in front of her and listen as she scolded her for something as small as riding out in the morning just because she'd wanted to. Like, was she seriously not allowed to do that? Specially on August of all the months she could have picked to do it, she picked this month when her duties to school weren't required because she was on her damn break, and frankly it wasn't the biggest crime she could have done. She hadn't gone to steal from the poor, she hadn't gone to take candy from a baby-- _oh please,_ she had a sweet tooth but it would certainly never be caught dead taking someone else's is when her magic allowed her to make food appear on the palm of her hand if she concentrated hard enough...something that she actually hadn't done in a while because it was truly kind of a waste when anything she craved for could be put at her dispense, but still...she'd had her fair amount of ridiculous fun with it.

Somehow thinking about this caused her mood to dip even further, fingers beginning to twitch because just like every other time, her magic was totally the helper of a friend in need and quickly took access of what she was feeling--right now a nice combination of annoyed, mad, and irritated--and decided to be the best support by making her body itch with all the feelings that were currently coursing through her and causing her mood to darken more and more.

The talk hadn't even started yet and already she had spiraled into anger more faster than she'd done before. Usually she was patient, and she managed to remain patient through the entire ordeal but that was SO NOT the case right now. Nope, the minute she had stepped out of the carriage a dark cloud had decided to come over her and she'd welcomed it for sure because this talk had already been pending and had officially begun to eat her away once her father was out of sight, no assuring smile from him this time to make it more bearable. Now she needed something to keep her anchored and apparently anger was making itself known because oh. Hell. Yes. This was stupid. It was stupid. A stupid reason for a conversation. A stupid reason to ruin a Friday over, and boy, boy, boy was she SEETHING now as she took her seat across from her mother and watched her take a moment to watch her in all her boiling rage because she truthfully didn't need this! This talk, it was all a good way of wasting time, of taking away what could have been a nice day. She honestly wished that for once her mother would just shut up, just be quiet and let this go for once, FOR ONCE she wanted to be free of this damn talk and be let to continue on with her day, not be forced to listen politely and attentively to something as dumb as this.

For once she just needed her to be quiet and not speak.  _Just be quiet, just be quiet, just be quiet._ For once she just wanted to be away from Snow White and the queen of Misthaven and to be faced with her mother instead. What she wanted was her mother to have this talk with her and not be treated as the princess but as her daughter. Comfort. She wanted comfort. And she didn't want that to come from Snow White or the fair queen. No. She just wanted the arms of her mother to hold her as her daughter and tell her it was going to be okay. To calm the anxiety she was feeling with her soothing touch because at this moment it was all crashing together. Everything, all of it. The very real reality that she had no control of the biggest thing inside her that made her who she was. A powerful, beautiful thing that could be used to kill an entire kingdom and wipe out an entire generation or be used against some innocent soul if she wasn't careful. The fact that she wasn't sure what her dream was, what she wanted in life, what brought actual passion to her being, and that increased worry because if she didn't know then becoming queen was all she had. To any other person that would have been amazing, to her once that would have been amazing but now she wasn't sure.

She wasn't sure, she wasn't sure, she wasn't sure.

She wasn't sure it was enough.

The fact that Belle was leaving. The fact that her father wasn't here for this talk. The fact that her mother was here but not. The fact that summer was almost over and that meant another year would come where solitude seemed her only company. The fact that she was lonely, that Belle was right, and that now that realization was weighing down on her, and everything seemed to want to weigh down on her today. She could do nothing but try to keep a poker face, get through this talk and then break down behind the safety of her room because she NEEDED to break down. She just needed it today.

"I can tell you're fuming."

Emma looked up.

_Of course you can._

Because all the practice she'd done to make her face as impassive and expressionless was going to choose this precise moment in her life to go to hell and let her be seen as an open book to the eyes of her mother. And for a minute Emma actually didn't care. For a minute she wanted her mother to see her like this, to see how angry she'd suddenly gotten, to see how pointless this was and let her go with a stern look and nothing more. But since that wasn't going to happen she just didn't say anything and forced herself to sit still in her chair, crossing her legs under the table and setting her clasped hands on top her lap like a nice little girl ready to listen and do as she is told.

Nice little  _nineteen_ year old girl.

She wanted to scoff but her lips kept pressed tightly together as she watched her mother observe her from the opposite side and then lean in to pour herself some tea; the steam adding some calm to the tense air.

"I know you probably think that your father and I are mad at you, and I'm sorry if our actions and expressions at the ball might have given you the impression that we were."

_Wait what?_

Was her mother actually apologizing to her right now?.

"But..."

_No._

 "...but we were disappointed in you, Emma, and you do know the reason why, right?"

What was she supposed to answer to that? No? Yes? Maybe? or... _can I just not give a crap?_.

"Yes."

"Okay," Snow feigned her agreement, leaning forward with her back straightened up and hands clasped on the wooden surface as she pressed with a gentle voice, "and what is the reason? or what you think is the reason."

_Think?._

So she was already wrong and her mother was right.

There was just no changing her opinion, so why did it matter what she thought the reason was?.

But Snow waited and Emma finally cleared her throat to speak.

"The reason is because I decided to go riding that morning and didn't stick to our...plans and decided to do my own thing." Her own voice came out quiet through gritted teeth at the end.

She sighed," Emma, it's okay if you want to do your own thing."

"It is?" That took her aback. Her mother wasn't looking her in the eye when she said it, she was looking down at her hands where her right index finger was caressing the ring on her left, and Emma could tell some sort of internal battle was going on within her by by the way she squirmed slightly and suddenly seemed nervous under her gaze before her face turned determined and a brief look of defiance went past her features as if she was fixing herself after having that little moment of weakness and preparing to say whatever she had to say.

"It is." It came out too exasperated; They both knew it wasn't believable.

Emma was getting frustated, why couldn't she just be honest?.

"Mother, what is it?"

Snow locked eyes with her and Emma could see the fierce leader and admired queen staring back at her, and that was the one who spoke, "What it is, Emma, is that you are a princess and you need to start acting like one."

"I...don't get it, I am."

_This is all because of a horseback ride?._

"But you don't act like it. Most of the time you do, and I get it, you're growing up, you're nineteen, but as a princess you still have duties and responsibilities, Emma, and one of those duties and responsibilities was to be there when Killian and Liam had breakfast with us that morning."

There.

That was it.

It was about the horseback ride.

She tried to focus on that underlined revelation and ignore how her magic had tingled at Killian's name, lighting up her palms for a second and making her clench them into fists when a spark escaped and came in contact with the fabric of the blue dress she was wearing today.

"Look," Emma started quietly. "I know I was supposed to be there but--"

"Yes, you were expected to be there."

"--and," She sighed. "I'm sorry, but it completely slipped my mind, it just--"

"That is just the thing, Emma," Snow said gently and she was hit with a regret but still took the hand her mother extended across the table. "but soon you will become queen," she tried her best to keep her hand firmly in hers but she still wanted to pull away from her words. "and that means you have to start putting your subjects above all else. Killian and Liam become your subjects the minute they step into Misthaven, and that means they are equal in how we treat any other citizen that was born here and has grown up with our customs, so you needed to be there because as your subjects you need to care for them and their well being. THAT will make you a great ruler, to show that you care for your people, for this kingdom, and that will always mean putting their safety and needs above your own. 

The supporters expect a leader, Emma. Someone who will listen, who will guide them, who will care for them and their families as long as they're here, who will bring them hope even when the Evil Queen is threatening everyone you love and hold dear, and who will lead into battle with bravery and confidence. Someone who will be there, Emma. And you need to be there, because as a queen that's how you have to be."

Emma swallowed hard.

And she needed to breathe. Like really,  _really_ needed to breathe, but she couldn't. It was a lot to take in, and her feet were tapping impatiently on the floor, the need to run, to get out, manifested quickly and now pointed in the direction of the door, eager, making her more and more anxious as they continued to sit there with every passing second.

What had she expected out of this talk?.

Had she really thought it wouldn't lead to this topic?.

Of course it did.

Choosing to be careless and letting things complete slip her mind were now being brought back to her in those words.

_You will become queen._

The words were haunting. They were awakening fear that she shouldn't fear and it was only making the fear worse with the knowledge that she shouldn't feel it.

_You will become queen._

Why was it affecting her now? Why couldn't she look forward to who she was supposed to be? Why was it so hard?.

The burning question of all: why couldn't she be like her mother?.

All these couldnt's that were quickly becoming a problem she needed to tame and stop them from messing with her head.

Because that's what they were doing, messing with her head when  _you will become queen_ should make her feel joy and happiness, and yet all these other things were pining her down when they shouldn't be.

She should be fine. She should be taking the words fine.

The words that came out of her mother's mouth next somewhat helped. 

"I love you."

It took her a few minutes to respond.

"I love you too, mom." Emma whispered, giving her a small smile but then not quite meeting her eye, and then hearing as the chair scraped back and her mother stood up, coming over to her side where she was still sitting to gently pull her up and bring her into an embrace.

She wrapped her arms around her but didn't feel the hug, and she was conscious of the fact that she was stroking her hair but didn't feel that either.

Instead her eyes were focused on the door, like she was willing it to open so she could walk out, but Snow kept her there and the more she continued to stay was the more she felt the need to be alone and back away from her mother's expectations to have some time to think and clear her head and simply burn all the questions that were only making her miserable right now.

Yes. She just needed time alone right now and then she could put in the effort.

But when she was finally able to walk out with her mother announcing that she would still stay in for a few more minutes, and she passed Killian and Liam in the hall on the way to her room and gave them curt nods and voided 'Hello Killian, Hello Liam', her eyes locked with Killian's for a second and she realized she didn't want to be alone, but that only made her close her door even quieter.

* * *

What 'Time alone' would have been hours turned into 'Time alone' the whole day because Emma didn't come out of her room after that. Just as she promised herself she would do, she took the time alone and dwelled in it for as long as she could until a guard came to knock on her door and inform her that lunch was ready. For a few minutes she thought about not going and maybe today she would eat in her room like she hadn't done for a long time, but then her mother's words  _you have to start putting your subjects above all else_ sailed in front of her closed eyes and she worked to make herself presentable since, now, Killian and Liam Jones were subjects of her kingdom for the time being and that meant she had to be there, so she went.

It had been hard to push her current mood aside and toss the emotions away when she finally walked in to join them and pretended that all was fine and perfect when she sat across from her mother and returned her smile. She then asked about Belle when they began eating and noticed that she was absent, and her mother informed her that she had left with her father when he came to pick her up early in the morning to go visit some friends after Emma had retreated to her room. She was disappointed that she wasn't there but also knew Belle would get the sense that she would want to be alone after the talk with her mother even though Emma, herself, hadn't gotten the sense yet until after, so she figured it was a good thing that Belle would get to spend the day with her father since she couldn't be much company.

Lunch had partaken in silence from her after her question had been answered and only the occasional nod of agreement came out for whatever her mother was talking about as she tried to make easy conversation to get Killian and Liam to join in but they only responded in polite, not freely as she guessed they did with each other because they were brothers and very close ones too. But she certainly didn't make it easy or inviting on her part to get to know them despite the fact that they would be staying for a month; she acted the same way they did: Polite and nothing more. It made lunch bearable but once she walked in for dinner she tried to eat quickly, not really tasting anything and then excusing herself early to go back to her room. It was so embarrassedly obvious that something was wrong and she hated that it appeared so obvious when she liked to pride herself in being guarded and impassive when i was necessary. Because today WAS necessary, one of those days when it was necessary and she needed to act first and put it on, but it seemed to not matter. It felt like they were seeing right through her, and she felt like she could do nothing but try to keep it up until tomorrow.

_Tomorrow..._ Suddenly it sounded like such a nice word as her head hit the pillow and her eyes closed against the soft cotton when he appeared in front of her and she saw that...

_He was smiling out of the corner of her eye as they came to a brief stop and without any word at all, his hand went to her waist and hers went to his shoulder._

_"So," He inclined his head to her just as she took the first step back to begin to dance, but he surprised her by stepping back too and then raising an eyebrow that made her wonder if he did that on purpose or if it was just embedded on him. "What, you didn't seriously think I wouldn't start it off, did you?"_

_"Frankly, no," She said flatly, and that broke a chuckle out of him as her body and feet decided to follow his own, and they followed to the music everyone else was dancing to, easily maintaining pace and flowing movement while also keeping a soft distance between them as she felt her hand slowly inching to his neck without really noticing she was doing it until their eyes met. "so who do I have the pleasure of dancing with?"_

_"Killian."_

_"Killian," She repeated, teasingly acting like she was tasting the word in her mouth before a full smile appeared. It tasted right. "It suits you."  
_

_"Aye," He whispered low, voice coming deliciously close to her ear as she felt the breath from his exhale make her shudder, warmth exploding onto her neck as his lips talked against her skin, "so does yours, Emma."_

_His hands slowly began sliding up her waist, leaving sparks of fire in their wake that made her feel more alive than the music they were still dancing to, even though it was faded and they were simply swaying from side to side on their feet. Her hands finally stopped inching up and completely cupped around his neck, flats having disappeared and leaving her barefoot on the floor as she tried to pull him down to her by standing on her tippy-toes, but he suddenly pulled her to him first and she ended up smacking gently into his chest as her hands fell from his neck to go around his waist instead and he took her in by the shoulders, pressing her closer to him as the first tear began to wet his black shirt and tilting his head so his cheek could right on top of hers, quiet sniffles indicating that she kept trying to hold back._

_"I know, Emma."_

_"You know what?"_

_"Something is troubling you."_

_Her body trembled as she nodded, "Can you just hold me?"_

_He ran his nose lightly along her hair. "Someone is knocking."_

_"What?"_

_"At the door," He stopped to breathe her in and she clung to him harder._

_"No wait..." She began to panic, hands trying to touch shoulders that should be there and grip onto heavy sleeves of his waistcoat but already it was fading, fingers feeling nothing._

_"Someone is knocking," His voice was distant; music completely gone now and he was becoming lost in the dark shadows enveloping them, beautiful blue eyes the only thing helping her still keep a hold._

_"But Killian," Her own voice sounded like an echo and it broke on her protest. "wait, just wait, not yet."_

_"The door, Emma..."_

_The door, Emma..._

_The door, Emma..._

_The door, Emma..._

"The door, Emma..."

Her mouth caught the taste of the soft cotton just as the words finished being mumbled into her pillow and she woke up with a start when the pounding reached her ears, eyes popping open and turning her head too fast, causing a bone to crack painfully in her haste and then blink the lingering sleep away enough for her to be able to take in the drastic change of sunset to moon at her window. Sighing and being slow to move because of how stiff her muscles felt but then practically jumping out of bed when the pounding got louder and more impatient, not at all like the gentle knocks she was accustomed to, but her feet panicked before she did because her mind flew to annoyed as she stumbled toward her door and then almost tripped when she threw it open and came face to face with Killian, fist left hanging in the air as her mouth dropped in shock and then recognition.

"What the hell are you doing here?!"

She cringed at her own words because DAMN had she just blown all the efforts for polite talk and impassive faces to the water; hand flying to cover her mouth when she realized how loud that had actually come out when it echoed down the hall.

He didn't even flinch. A smirk tugged at his lips-- _jerk_ \--and actually amusement flooded over his face as he looked back at her with a raised eyebrow. She wanted to slap it right off his face and ask what was  _oh, so funny_ and why he thought it was okay to come to the princess's chambers this late at night but she bit back the question and reeled in her annoyance.

He just continued to stand thee, completely unwavering, and then he gave her a full out grin that made her have to tale a few steps back in surprise.

"Are u done?"

She had been staring at him and he had let her, basking in the enjoyment of it almost as much as she had briefly basked in his grin.

Because he had definitely enjoyed her eyes roaming over him, in no way staring but actually roaming over the arms that suddenly made her wander how it would fell if they really went around her and how it would feel if his nose really ran lightly along her hair or how his lips felt when they actually talked against her skin and made her shudder.

Obviously the dream was still looming over her head and causing her to think these things that felt so, so good insider her mind and now with blushing cheeks made her note that she could get that hug if she wanted to. They were alone. She could reach for him and he could pull her in if he wanted to, just like in the dream. She wondered if she would hesitate if it did happen but the she figured she wouldn't care and would let it happen anyway. See if it felt just as good and comforting and safe as it had in the dream.

Emma blinked and was momentarily distracted by the blue of his beautiful eyes. They looked exactly like they had in the shadows when it enveloped them, except this was better, with the moon's light coming through the window and casting a particular white all the way to where he was standing, it decorated over his face and entirely caught his eyes, making the pupils stand out even harder and fuller as they glinted in her vision. Her own reflection stared back at her where she was lost in his, and then the moment was broken by him clearing his throat and she taking another step back as she crossed her arms, burying what had just overcome her. Somehow they had drifted closer to each other and now nice, proper distance was settled between them again.

She would be forever grateful for the darkness that covered the continuous red staining her cheeks while he didn't fare so well in the light, burning of his cheeks extremely evident as he scratched behind his ear, biting his lower lip and eyes briefly going down before they locked with hers again at her question.

"Killian, why are you here?"

"I've come to apologize."

She didn't miss a beat. "For lying to me?"

"Yes."

Emma scoffed, "That was days ago."

He simply nodded curtly. "Aye, I'm well aware, but the time was making me remorseful and I've been meaning to say it since you came upon me and my brother that day but never got the chance."

"Oh, so because you've finally decided to feel guilty, I should forgive you?"

She was dragging it out now but he didn't even squirm under her tone.

"No," came his response, and it was as serious as she'd ever heard his voice get that it made her eyebrows twitch together. "That choice is entirely up to you, Emma," The use of her name did something to her, the way he said it, so formally to get her attention and yet there was a sweetness procuring it too, far too close to the way it had sounded in her dream. "I am sorry for lying to you about my name."

She had to shake out of her daze. "Why did you lie to me about your name?"

Now he smiled sheepishly and scratched behind his ear again as he let out a small nervous laugh, and it was so cute that a smile slipped out of her despite her efforts. "Uh...truthfully? I don't know, I just did, and apparently 'Charles' was the best I could come up with..."

She chuckled because he said it with the same distaste that she and Belle had, wrinkling his nose so adorably that it made her bite her lip as she tightened her arms around herself in case her hands wanted to do anything....rash.

"...but, yes, well, I lied and I'm sorry for that, Emma."

"Did you really not recognize me?"

He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. "Would you believe me if I told you I don't have much experience around royalty?"

"Yes. I would." She couldn't smile at that because of what she really knew: that he was an orphan and been sold into slavery, but he didn't seem to be thinking along those lines. Only a few minutes later did it come over him and he withdrew, clearing his throat. She searched his eyes and he seemed to be doing the same.

"Well I'm sorry for interrupting your sleep--"

"Oh, no, it was..." She let herself trail off, closing her eyes against what she was about to say and mumbling 'no' to herself again and again.  _Shut up, Emma, shut up, shut up, just shut up._

"It was just what?"

She opened her eyes to his unaware gaze and shrugged indifferent. "Just a dream."

He pressed his lips together, nodding. "Was it nice?"

"Uh..."  _Yes._

"Right," He took a step back when she trailed off again and then regarded, "I figured I would just come here because I didn't think you would want my brother or the lady Belle or anybody present when I did apologize, and well..."

"Just for the two of us," Emma whispered and he smirked.

It was enough to break the spell because she rolled her eyes and then pointedly said, "Okay goodnight, Killian. Thank you for being so...considerate."

Disappointment flickered across his face but he nodded. "You're welcome. I'll see you in the morning?"

Well it's not like she had much choice.

She also couldn't understand why he would ask.

"Yes." Emma said and he turned around to leave.

"Alright then," but he paused and asked, "how was your day?"

"What?"

He only shook his head. "Did it get better?"

"I...uh..." She stuttered over her words and then whispered, "yeah."

Killian smiled and finally whispered, "Goodnight, Emma."

"Goodnight, Killian." She wasn't able to return his smile because of how confused she was, but when the door closed behind her the smile came out as she leaned her back and let herself think about it.

It had been his small way of saying 'Something was troubling you', just like in the dream.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Killian wasn't supposed to be a part of this chapter at all when i wrote it days, DAYS back but somehow it ended up worming in there and ta-da! he and Emma got their moment cause they actually hadn't had a moment alone since chapter 2 (i know, why so far) . I wonder what you guys expected out of Snow and Emma's talk because when I first envisioned it it did involve a lot of yelling on probably both their parts BUT that will be saved for a different talk, so fair warning for next chapter : unexpected angst


	6. A Touch's Cost

Chapter 6: A Touch's Cost

Belle had already left. The day before she and her mother had accompanied Belle and her father all the way to the docks when Belle had come by in the morning to tell them all she was leaving, ship already waiting to take her back to her kingdom while her father had personally come too to bid his farewells to the queen and once again deliver his thank you for the invitation. Emma had been the one to suggest that they go with them to watch them go and her mother had surprisingly agreed, telling Killian and Liam that they were free to have anything for breakfast, and letting her and Belle have a carriage to themselves in the 20 minutes it took to get to the docks so that they could use it to have private conversation amongst each other before they were separated again.

Of course Emma was sad to see her go again. They'd only gotten to spend one full day together and now it would probably be another year or more when she would get to see her again. The rare occasions on when she came to visit were exactly that, rare. And the letters they frequently sent to one another took days or sometimes weeks to get from her kingdom to Belle's. Remembering how they used to spend almost everyday together was becoming faded in the new memories taking place of another year gone by, she only knew that they were  _there_ but just small glimpses were visible and she wished they wouldn't be just that. But it was all there was. Emma had to think about how it would be after another year or when they both became queens, it would make seeing and spending time with each other all the more harder with the new duties and responsibilities that they both would have to fulfill in respect to their kingdoms. It was the truth. She knew Belle's father and she knew he would also encourage the same thing that her mother was encouraging. To become what she had to be. To become how she was supposed to be. It was just something to be expected as the heir to the throne. No one could imagine a princess deciding that she simply did not desire to be queen. To some people it was actually unthinkable and would even consider it selfish for her to want something other than what was being freely given at her feet. Millions dreamed of it, after all. Millions wanted to be dressed in the finest silks and be given the shiniest rooms with jewels weighing heavily on their chests and being bestowed great titles that brought on admiration and glory while being caressed by the most lively music and having enormous balls in their honor, making you feel like you are of the highest and cared for because of how graciously you are served and how well you are treated. But deep down she was still just a girl, who felt emotions the same way everyone else did but was not allowed to actknowledge them. To actknowledge them meant risking your brave face falling off, so she wished people could consider it a blessing that they were free to cry and yell and cower when the world was ripping around them, because she couldn't do that. She owed it to her people to show someone brave and confident and willing to find hope when it seemed like there wasn't any but...where did that leave herself?.

With Belle it left her thinking about their friendship a lot. Would it soon fade because of the images they would have to learn to portray? Would it last through the parts of themselves they would have to learn to hide, to leave behind? It feared Emma to think that it would be over, and Belle would slowly turn into the thoughts of  _what had once been_ as they slowly attributed to what their future selfs had to do, act, and be. She didn't want that. She wanted that rare kind of friendship that many didn't have, but that, surprisingly, she'd found that in the middle of her period on a school day when she thought she'd just come along a dead body. That was true, that had been real, and as awkward and weird as it had been, it had been hers. Emma and Belle's, and Belle and Emma's. So would it remain or would it get lost just as she seemed to get more and more these days?.

The word 'Savior' burned in her mind. It didn't fit a place anymore. It hadn't been uttered in years. Nobody ever recalled the curse that was said to take away their happy endings and freeze them in a miserable world for 28 years until the 'Savior' would come to break it and deliver them back home. That was supposed to be her too. She was old enough now to know that that was supposed to be her, but it never came to pass. Talk about the Dark Curse hadn't been said in her home for a long time, the only time she truly remembered her parents talking about it was in quiet whispered hushes when she was little. Now it was like it had never existed at all. Just a little smudge in what could have been. But it was a perfect comparison. Emma had once been expected to be the Savior, whether she wanted to or not, it had been marked on her even before she was born. And now the same thing was happening again, whether she wanted to or not, Emma was expected to be queen, marked on her even before she was born just the same.

"Quite pensive today, are?"

Emma decided to ignore the 'we' in his question but turned her head when he came to stand beside her.

"I'm fine." She replied curtly and void of any emotion that could say otherwise.

Killian chuckled, "Well I meant you looked thoughtful, Emma."

A frown threatened to unfurl at the use of her name so forwardly but she pressed her lips together to hide the smile that came instead, secretly liking the way his accent made the letters of her name sharper and left the little trail of an echo when his tongue glided over the 'm'.

"I was."

His gaze followed hers overlooking the field. Now her mind was blank as she took it in, instead of the swirling mess of thoughts about Belle and friendship and savior and queen that had been going on just a moment ago before he interrupted with his voice. It certainly helped her eyes get lost in it, pulling her into a better place, and she almost wanted to say 'Thank you' but knew that hadn't been his intention. He'd just simply talked to her, but it was casual and laced with nothing more than the mere question even though a part of her had wondered if he had been observing her from afar and noticed how truly pensive she was. Maybe even gotten concerned? curious?.

_No, Emma, it's none of that._

"How often do you go riding through those fields?"

A smile broke out to where her eyes caught sight of the last rays of sunlight beginning to hit the trees from the eastern side, still enough light left for them to go riding and make it back in time for dinner before it became officially dark and the moon made its daily appearance in the quickly blackening blue sky. "Often. But not so much this summer, though."

"How does it feel?"

Emma closed her eyes and inhaled before whispering," It feels like you're free."

Killian didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. The look of pure fascination and complete transfixion on his face toward the fields was enough of an answer out of the corner of her eye for her to know that he thought the same even though he hadn't gone riding out yet. She felt her own face soften at the expression he wore but tried to hide whatever emotion was making the smile break out again by keeping her focus on the fields, even though her focus was really on him.

It was a truly beautiful sight, just how enamoured and heavenly lost he was on what stretched on miles and miles before him, eyes suddenly holding the power to keep her standing there next to him, feet frozen to the ground, and the silence that surrounded them making the moment all the more intimate that when their heads turned at the same time and their breathing came to a stop, ocean and emerald locking as their bodies began to follow suit, Emma felt as if--

"Ready, brother?"

Her head snapped to the approaching footsteps coming behind them and then Liam appeared next to Killian, giving him a slap on the back. Just like that, whatever magic had been sparking in the air between them broke to Liam's joining presence. Emma looked away as Killian nodded, muscles suddenly heavy from the interruption and hands left feeling itchy and excited for what had been about to happen, what could have happened, but she clasped her hands together in front of her, trying to tame what they'd wanted to grasp. The look that came over when she turned around was one of gratitude when she saw her mother waving at them, beckoning them back to the stables.

Closing her eyes for two brief seconds and exhaling out quietly through her nose, she turned back to the brothers and said, "Our horses are ready."

She could Liam's eyes on her back as she took the lead in front, almost like he was scrutinizing her as she held her head high and walked with graceful steps, minding the little rocks twisted in distorted uneven shapes so as not to trip. The bore of his gaze lingered all the way to the entrance of the stables where her mother waited, a small trickle of sweat going down the side of her head as she swallowed and felt the look of judgement practically pour into her like a blazing sun's heat, draining and exhausting, and hitting her skin like sharp-tipped knives.

It was weird how she knew it was Liam's eyes staring at her and not Killian's, because it was SO clearly Liam's but she didn't dare turn around to confirm.

_No more distractions._

Four perfectly groomed stallions awaited for them inside, all lined up next to each other in a nice still row with the saddles already in place and horseshoes on their hooves as they moved them slightly anxiously on the ground and seemed to huff out impatient sounds to the ones holding their reins, clearly so well trained that they were aware they were about to be ridden. Calm summer afternoon breeze swept in and made them all the more restless in their waiting as Emma went up to her horse and quietly shushed him with a soft caress of her palm to its nose, immediately feeling Roger still at her touch and then nuzzle its whole nose against her forehead when he recognize who she was, tail flipping up from side to side as she smiled.

She saw Killian watching her from the corner of eye but chose to ignore her instinct. Liam watched too, although he watched with a slight knit of his eyebrows and line of his lips indicating a frown wanting to come down but she ignored both of them and only turned her attention to her mother when Snow announced,

"Alright so who's ready for riding?"

Snow clapped her hands eagerly and waved Killian and Liam excitedly over to mount up their horses while Emma accepted the reins in her hand and placed her foot on the stirrup to quickly lift herself up and throw one leg over the seat with a restrained sigh, settling more comfortably against the cantle as she arched her shoulders back and let the breeze flip her loose hair around until it settled it behind her in cascading golden waves. Her mother easily got up closely afterwards and two men helped show Killian and Liam how to get up while they waited patiently even though it turned out to be a little less than a few minutes because they got the getting up part fast and were soon on top. Liam still took a bit longer to boost himself up, grunting against it when his foot slightly slipped on the stirrup and then when he messily swung over his leg and almost slid off the saddle in a gasp of surprise when one leg stood out the other in his balance, making him almost fall off the horse in his haste; Killian, meanwhile, did it quietly and with a finesse that made her bet that he could do it with one hand in some other lifetime and it would still come out just as well. Emma tried not to dwell on how gracefully he'd done it, that for a second had let her get lost in his movements before she blinked and watched him take the reins in his hands and give a nod to her mother as she turned her head to look forward instead.

Another horse came to stand beside her own, and the rider on top asked, "How are you doing with the company, princess?"

It was a trick question, she knew what she had to answer. Although it was polite in his voice and simply a question with no real harm behind the intentions of the one who'd asked, the response she was supposed to give was obvious and expected.

"Very fine, Graham. Definitely an increased amount compared to all the other times I've ridden."

Meaning she was OK with the company, and a part of her was. It was a very fine different to be joined with three other people at her side other than going through the fields alone, like Graham had seen her do countless times before and was henceforth probably why he'd asked. She liked riding through the fields by herself though, accustomed to it even, and sometimes needing to be alone while she galloped at full speed and with no one but her to feel the air as she did. But she also wouldn't deny that she would cherish these moments when she got to ride with people at her side, even though it hadn't been her idea to do this particular activity this afternoon, a part of her was still silently happy to share the air with company.

"Would you care for some competition, Your Highness?"

Emma turned her head at him with a raised eyebrow. "Really, Graham?"

He shrugged, trying to fake indifference but smiling. "Well I do believe the queen's daughter deserves some fun now and then."

She caught the scoff that almost slipped out on that because  _really, Graham?_ that was the farthest thing she was from doing these days since her future already involved all these new, serious standards.

"I thought you were supposed to be protecting us."

The smile widened, "Who's to say I can't protect you while I good-naturely beat you at our race?"

"You're on." Emma nodded.

But once they were walking through the field, his horse fell back to walk behind them a few feet away, no longer at her side. She knew he shot her an apologetic look, but she also wasn't surprised. His duty to protect her and her mother just as her father had trusted him to do was more important to him above all else, and she admired the way he took it so seriously even though no harm could possibly come to them inside the palace's grounds. Emma couldn't blame him though. She saw how devoted he was and how hard he'd worked to get to the position he was in now despite having no family to encourage him, except for a mysterious wolf at his side that she still saw roaming around the place even though it had been 15 years and he was now 22. Emma had practically known him her whole life but the wolf didn't come into her memories until she was around 13 or 14 when she'd seen it scurrying behind Graham's every step. They'd never go beyond the small talk though, and they hadn't really talked over the years either, never more than just a few sentences like right now.

Now Emma wasn't sure she was okay with that, but she couldn't blame him for fulfilling his duty so she just didn't look back.

The afternoon was certainly something to speak of with the birds flitting back to their nests, crickets slowly becoming apparent in the trees with their chirps, the sky above her giving away to the first spot of stars and outlines of where the moon would soon appear while the clouds mashed into the colors of the sunset red, orange, and yellow clashing and fading away to change to a soft pink and purple contrast as she felt the burning rays hitting her back from where she saw her dark shadow moving before, mimicking the light walk they were on even though she truly wanted to go into a full gallop. She could see why her mother preferred the afternoons, even though she was more for the morning rides and thinking that any other time of the day couldn't hold a candle to it, she found the same calmness in the sunset as she found in the sunrise and mused if maybe she would alternate between them on whatever day to have the  pleasure of enjoying both.

She allowed herself to throttle a little ways more ahead, smiling tentatively as she did until she pressed her heels softly but firmly on Roger's sides to make him stop and then glance back over her shoulder, seeing that Killian and Liam had wandered to opposite directions and her mother was currently paused completely to hold a blue bird as it came to rest on her waiting finger; Emma had to squint to be sure and then noticed Graham the most farthest of them all that it was almost impossible to make him out with the blinding rays of the sunlight practically swallowing him from her far-off view. The smile that had been cautiously there now splayed wide when she looked away and focused her gaze in front of her. Warm wind caressed her skin like it was the light touches of someone's fingertips on her cheek, whipping her hair up from her head and slowly bringing it back down to a sloppy mess of tangled strands in front of her eyes as it coursed through her again and again but she couldn't find it in herself to fix it right again. There was nobody with her anyway; they were all too behind doing their own thing to catch up to how far she'd gone without them and that's exactly the kind of minutes she wanted to have before having to head back in for dinner. Closing her eyes, she took in the peace of just standing there. No worrying thoughts, no weird dreams of comfort from the person she shouldn't even be dreaming about...that made her nose wrinkle and eyes open to the curiosity of why he'd even come to mind in the first place, of why he'd been the one to invade her senses and steal her away in a dream that had stretched on for hours when it felt like mere seconds in his hold, why he had even--

"I feel like you're statement of feeling free could be better supported if I actually knew how to ride this creature."

His presence startled her, she hadn't even heard him or his horse coming behind her but now here he was standing next to her and facing the same view she was, legs mere inches from brushing against each other as her eyes briefly went down and noticed. His sudden proximity made it hard for her to come up with a response as she licked her lips and saw that he wasn't the least bit deterred as she was, at least on the surface. Emma would never know what was going on within him, beyond the surface, at this moment right now because somehow they were alone again.

She realized she still hadn't responded yet, and when she did speak the words came out rushed, "It's okay, I'm sure you'll learn it soon enough since my mother has arranged for you and your brother to begin taking lessons, and I'm positive those lessons will continue even when you enter the Naval Academy."

"Thank you." His voice was quiet and Emma turned her head to look at him, unsure if she'd heard correctly and confused if that was required for this conversation since she'd simply told him the truth.

"I'm sorry, what?"

Killian smiled and waved his hand as if to emphasize, "For taking us in. I know Liam has probably said enough thank you's for the both of us, and I've said my fair share to the king and queen as well, but I wanted to say it to you too."

 _Baffled_ was the perfect word to describe how she was feeling, and surprised worked too because she certainly hadn't expected that from him. The thought of her saying  _Thank you_ to HER hadn't ever...would never have crossed her mind. Of course to her mother and father it was a given, and it was also understandable, but this, it just wasn't expected. From anybody, he had to be the first to utter those words to her and for some reason it dawned a shy, warm heat over her entire being that punctuated right at her heart and dug itself a space there because it made her feel so respected.

"Well, um," Emma stuttered. "you're welcome, uh. You're welcome, Killian."

He caught her eye out of the corner of his and gave a nod, not saying any more and letting a comfortable silence settle between them for a good ten minutes with her sneaking subtle glances at him and smiling to herself when she had looked away, the pleasurable warm heat that had come over her lingering.

Killian's horse suddenly whined and made a loud protestant sound that made him gasp, breaking their silent bubble as her own horse went back a few steps and she looked up to his grunts as he struggled to untangle the reins from the maze of zigzags they had become on his fingers with his nervousness. Emma calmed Roger's immediately rising panic and then made him move forward the steps he had taken back to halt him at Killian's side again and then twist her waist to bend over and extend an arm out, helping him take a hold of the reins as his horse began to stamp, causing his eyes to widen with it before she heeled it at his side and pulled the reins gently back to finally calm it down at her firm nickers that finally managed to root it still. Killian breathes out and her eyes take in how frightened he'd gotten, watching it slowly fade from his features now that he was back on steady ground and letting their shoulders leave their tense, rigid form to give away to relaxed. He opens his eye after another breath and finds her already looking right at him with a small smile that he returns with one of his own, clearly grateful and embarrassed since his cheeks are splashed with crimson, so Emma brushes her finger in an attempt to relieve the awkwardness that wasn't there and then feels his thumb brush against the top of her hand before she recoils and he's suddenly thrown back into the air.

"Killian!"

The blast of her forcefield throws her back too and she lands face-down on the ground with a painful crack of her wrist and twist of her elbow as both their horses yelp behind her, standing on their hind legs and then wildly running past her, away from the static white sparks breaking in the air. She scrambles to her feet and then trips in her scurry, sending her almost falling forward as a gasp escapes her lips and a hand flies up to cover her mouth when she sees him land twenty feet away from her, motionless.

"Brother!" Liam's voice comes from afar as she turns around to see him jump off his horse and begin running toward while Graham's "Hiyah!" echoes across the distance separating them and soon his horse is galloping straight to her as her mother notices the exploding panic an afraid 'Emma!' before coming her way too.

Her breathing becomes heavier as she sees them get closer and closer. Her hands are shaking violently as she presses them to her chest and lets out a barely audible 'No'. Her whole body trembles from the forcefield still manifesting like a glowing dome around her, protecting her, and she shakes her head to them. The tears fall fast and hard as she realizes what's about happen and musters up the strength to shout 'NO!" before her knees give away beneath her and she collapses with the white smoke enveloping her, vanishing completely from their sight. 

 

 

 


	7. A Distant Oblivion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Graham will have his moment with Emma  
> I'm sorry for this torture! it slightly hurt me to write their moment but it needed to be done, I promise the next chapter will not disappoint for our two lovebirds!

Chapter 7: A Distant Oblivion

It was another dream, it was another dream, it was another dream, and a really BAD one too because there was no way she had just hurt him, there was no way she had just hurt someone again, there was no way her touch had been that dangerous. There was just no way. It had to be a cruel joke that her mind was playing with her because of what she was feeling for Killian, and soon she would wake up and laugh about how truly horrible it had been because it was in no way true. It was just a dream. She was about to wake up at any moment and then go downstairs and see him sitting at the table, alive and breathing and fine. He would be fine.  _He would he fine._ Yes, he would be fine. He was completely fine and somewhere at his guest room a guard was knocking at his door to let him know that breakfast was ready and her mother, The Queen, was waiting. He would be escorted and they would go through the same polite conversation they'd been having. Nothing more, nothing less. Everything else had just been her imagination. That close proximity had never happened, she'd never let him get that close. And Graham, Liam, and her mother...those were just illusions too, all just part of an ugly dream that was best to be called a nightmare. Painfully real illusions. Too real. Too close to actual human form, too colorful and their voices too right. It was all just too right and...

Emma blinked against the dissolving smoke. She was wrong, she was wrong, she was so wrong. She was so wrong because the smoke disappeared around her had done exactly as she'd wanted. It had gotten her out of the field. It had transported her to the one place her mind was able to conjure up with enough perfect detail in the middle of all that chaos. It had gotten her out of the way before three other innocent people suffered the same fate of what her forcefield had done. Had done to  _him._ It wasn't a damn dream, it was the truth. One second she was on the ground and in that very same second her body was now laying on the floor of her room, soft red carpet under her palms that she'd padded on a thousand times before, mirror exactly where it always was and giving her the reflection of the girl staring up the ceiling breathing heavily, and window right where it was supposed to be, providing very little light of any source to the completely dark space she had transported herself to now that the sun was officially gone.

It was clear. She had hurt him. She had watched him fly backward. She had watched the impact cut him motionless before he had even hit the ground. She had watched her touch bring upon his death. It was all her fault, and she hadn't even been able to reel her forcefield back in to save three others from getting hurt. They were all running toward her, unaware. The best thing she'd been able to do was retreat. It was just a fancy way of saying that she'd run away. Emma had done the first thing she'd thought of and it was to run away. It wasn't to try to control her magic, to reel her forcefield back into its owner, it wasn't to tame what had escaped her and make it undo what it had just done. Accidentally done.  _No, no, no._ There was no undoing that. It happened. It wasn't a lie. There was no do-over. There was no retreating her steps and fixing her mistake. You couldn't fix an impact like that, not something as strong like that.

The faint voices soon became apparent in her ears. They started off as little murmurs, comparable to how a ringing began. First low and far, no precise way to tell the difference of how much. It didn't matter the distance anyway because she was paralyzed by the sounds. The sounds froze her there, unable to move or lift herself up to go chase what was keeping her captivated. Her foot twitched as the footsteps became louder and pounded their way heavier up the stairwell, faint voices finally giving away to a real commotion downstairs quickly making its way upstairs. What they were saying wasn't comprehensible, and that's what made her lose all sense of the spell's hold on her. When her heart was suddenly gripped by panic's hand and the reason for all that she was hearing fell over her like a bucket of ice cold water, her mouth finally broke out in a gasp and she was up.

Emma threw open the door, ignoring the pain shooting down from her elbow and throbbing making itself known in her wrist, and began running down the hallway, rushing feet echoing off the walls and causing for her heart to pick up speed and push herself forward faster, trying to escape the isolation she suddenly felt and hoping in vain for her blurry vision to clear enough for her to be able to breathe but the new tears coming down to replace the dry ones on her cheeks made to swallow her up more. Her hands hit the column before her body did. It made her dizzy for a few seconds, and in those seconds she wanted to laugh. She already knew how quickly she'd spiraled down. It was obvious enough, but this time it seemed to grip at her harder and like it was the first time she'd hurt someone when really it was the second.

Would there be a third?.

Blue would make her lay off for weeks. Blue would postpone their lessons again. Blue would tell her the same lies that rest was all she  needed. But this was stronger, this went deeper, and she knew this time she wasn't going to be able to stomach the ' _You will get better, Emma, I promise'_. She would look for answers this time and she would leave the kingdom if she had to, but there was no way she would continue staying this way. This couldn't keep happening. Her magic couldn't keep reacting this strongly to such simple emotions. There was a vast space that begged for steady ground and weeks of past rest had proved that wasn't what was going to fix this. All she had done those weeks was store it away. Put it on pause and avoided it with the very stupid illusion that once she got back to it it would be fine. But it was far from fine. She had been her fair share of naive when she was 13, now Emma realized. That young teenage girl had reacted much the same as this older and more mature version of herself now. It was like she was thirteen again and all semblance of nineteen left her internally as she thought back to the day she'd first, truly, felt out of control and then...snap. Just like that. Like a twig breaking in two. And now here she was again in that familiar state. With a fear that felt too familiar to the one of  6 years ago, if not more enhanced. It had come back too easily. It had been just been looming in the shadows, in a little corner, just waiting to be brought back out.

The word  _fear_   sounded like it was meant to be echoed.

Right now it had done exactly that. Echoed through her most vulnerable parts inside her. Not digging, not clinging, not gluing itself to those parts. Simply echoing. She was the one who did it. She helped it dig, cling, and glue by letting it echo inside her in the first place.

Killian had brought it back out.

"No," She only barely whispered. It was so low that even she hadn't really heard it, only aware that she had said it because she felt her lips practically breathe it out as her forehead came in contact with the cool white marble of the tall, fat column.

"Quickly, quickly! And carefully! Carefully, I tell you," Graham's voice urged and commanded with an authority--so different from the always quiet, easy going, sweet voice she heard every time--that made Emma stiffen and look toward where the two guards were racing up the other stairwell, directly across from where she was standing; Two guards trailed behind him while two others held Killian by the arms and ankles, rapidly trying to carry him up the stairs without tripping or swaying him too much,  _his_ head was hanging back, lolling up and down with the movement, as they trudged another step and another step.

"He's not waking up," Liam's voice came quivering and broken up by the tears she knew were falling as he followed their steady pace up the stairs by his brother's side and leaned over to firmly whisper after several loud sniffs back, "come on, brother, come on, you have to wake up, brother, you have to wake up,"

A distant 'Emma!' sounded under her and she saw her dress's skirt and heard the hard beat of her boots against the floor before she saw her mother come rushing into open-view and begin running up the stairs to catch up to Graham, frantically throwing her head from side to side, no doubt in search of her as Emma stepped away from the railing she was tightly gripping and darted back to hide behind the column in case she looked up.

"Have you seen her?" Her mother softly asked and Graham shook his head. The usual firm, composed, and cheery tone was replaced by evident worry that she hadn't heard in a long time. It made her voice so inviting and like she could actually jump into her waiting arms because, for a moment, it was the voice she needed. The voice of a mother. Not the queen, not Snow White, but simply the one of a mother wishing to hold her child through the middle of her torments. It filled Emma with so much relief that she was almost threatened to come out of her hiding spot and meet her on the other side. "Take him to his room and settle him gently down on his bed. One of you go get Doc and bring him up, and you, search the palace for my daughter and make sure she's okay. The minute you find her, you bring her to me without hesitation, and you do not startle her, is that clear? Yes? alright, go, thank you. And Liam, honey, it's going to be okay, Killian will live, I promise you that.:"

 _Cause you make them hope for something you're not sure you can give_ because her mother wasn't sure; The doubt was clear to Emma's ears to what probably sounded like an assurance to Liam.

They made it to the top and she watched the two guards disappear with Killian and Liam down the hall that held all the guest rooms. Her feet made to move after them and follow them all the way there, but she saw Graham nod to something her mother said and instead stayed back, squinting to make out what their lips were rapidly whispering and then seeing her mother disappear down the hall too. She lingered even after she was gone, her figure absent from her sight, and that one moment too long was enough for Graham to turn around and catch her standing there. His eyes widened a little as the inhale through her mouth got stuck in her throat, and for a minute she was just completely frozen in place as he stared at her and then opened his mouth as if to call out her name but she dove behind the column before he could say anything and took off running the other direction before he even made a move to come.

"E--Your Highness, wait!"

Now he let go of the railing and she saw his feet fly forward to the right and run past one of the columns on the other side, obscuring him from her view as she kept running and heard only the loud of his rattling armor as he gained speed and then suddenly appeared directly behind her when she chanced a glance back and saw him getting closer and closer despite the added weight of what he wore. She was lighter on her feet of course, thanks to the running of one foot bare while the other still held the flat that hadn't been lost somewhere in the field, and yet she still tripped a good number of times before seeing the wall come up ahead and knowing this little chase was about to come to an end if she didn't magically manage to transport herself back to her room and lock the door. The fact that he had been about to call her by her name made her stumble because they'd only had one other moment like that, and that moment now flashed just like the knife that flew past her eye, which made her gasp and freeze as the tip of the blade hit the wall in front of her and stuck there with a vibrating  _ping_. Her hand went up to her cheek in reflex, the shock-feeling of how it'd whooshed past her and almost  _almost_ touched her skin still lingering there as she heard Graham come to a halt behind her, and she spun around.

"Graham, what the hell! That could have hit me!"

"But it didn't."

Emma glared at him and he just crossed his arms. He stared her down and she just continued to stand there unflinching. They stayed like that for a few minutes, neither willing to give in. For a second it had felt like Emma and Graham, six and nine years old, in their chase. But now it felt like Emma and Graham, the princess and the guard, at the end of their chase. The realization of that time shift caused her hard expression to falter, and he sighed but Emma pointed her finger at him to stop him there.

"No, do you even realize that could have startled a forcefield out of me and then you would have gotten hurt too?!"

It was a miracle the column hadn't blasted apart the minute she touched it, but as always, like every other time, her magic chose where and when. She wanted to cry and curse out in frustation for how pathetic this was, to be the one controlled and not be the one doing the controlling. It was an embarrassment at this point to Graham and to anybody else that saw how easily the princess's power turned against her. Of course her hands had now stopped shaking, of course now the white smoke would not come to envelop her, of course her will in this meant nothing. It felt more like a cruel downright joke constantly played on her and marking her as the fool again and again instead of being the rare gift her magic was supposedly said to be. It wasn't this beautiful blessing that had been bestowed on her, it was something that could easily make her the enemy.

"Even if I would have thrown a red dart, it still wouldn't have hit you," He took a step forward and she took a step back from the dangerous thing splayed on his face that almost made her fear and anger at herself dissipate. "I never miss, Your Highness. Target's bulls-eye every time. And it was supposed to get you to stop."

"That's not the point," Emma still stubbornly glared at him, resisting the childish urge that  _yes, yes, I know all of that_ was on the tip of her tongue and seemed to resurrect her young self more today than any of the other days they'd been face to face.

"The point is I have my orders from the queen and the trust of the king to protect you, so I'm going to do that despite what you want."

"You can't protect the person you need protection  _from_." She mumbled those words as she took another step back, meant to point it out but not really saying it to him at all.

It didn't faze him, but she knew he clearly knew she was at a weak point right now. "It still doesn't change my orders, Your Hi--"

"Shut up."

Graham blinked, slightly caught off guard, and then clearing his throat to try again. "I'm sorry, Prin--"

"No."

"No?"

"No."

He was stunned and Emma shouldn't take pleasure in it but she did. The guilt would come later once her cloud of recollection finally stopped raining and she finally stopped trying to demand his nine-year old self out of him with her teenage snaps and realized that he was just trying to do his job while she was in the mood to strip it off him and throw it out the window, if only to have a friend right now. Belle was too far away, August was too far away. So that left Graham.

"I say it out of respect."

Emma sighed, eyes falling closed in defeat. "I know, I...I'm sorry, but I don't want to hear this 'Your Highness' or 'Princess Emma' thing right now, it's hard to explain, and...just, nothing," she shook her head. "Nothing. Circumstances just aren't the best right now."

"Hey." His voice came soft and quiet but she didn't let it lure her in this time, instead focusing on breathing in and out steadily as she pinched the bridge of her nose and felt her eyebrows knit together, the only real sigh that she was fighting hard to not look at him and long for what she'd never been really good at admitting. When she felt his hand on her shoulder, it surprised her, but she wasn't thinking about that or how the first instinct was to push him away when she released the wobbly sigh and stepped right into his cold embrace. Well, the armor was cold, but underneath the silver he was warm. It wasn't what helped soothe her though because the hug itself was stiff. Where his collarbone was where she rested her forehead, skin coming in contact with the hard metal get-up of his uniform that covered him from knees to neck but it served exactly like she wanted it too. His hands didn't pull her further into his arm or make any move to flush her closer to his chest, but they just grazed her back enough for her to know that they were, only barely touching the soft dark brown textile of the shirt she'd chosen to wear today that it almost felt like a ghost's fingertips being the ones to pass and lightly caress her. She didn't wrap her arms around his neck or tilt her head up to search for the lips that were right  _there_ sending warmth into her hair. She stayed with her arms crossed exactly the same way she'd had them when she'd walked into him. On any other day this definitely would have been awkward. To anybody that witnessed this would have thought of awkward. And once this moment blew over, surely there would be awkwardness to follow. But it would be just another moment they'd shared that they would never speak about.

To Emma, it felt like they were suspended in mid-air, held by the invisible strings of gravity having stopped for them so they could have another rare moment to add to the short file.

Graham simply held her.

"I'm sorry," Her voice broke in a sob she tried to muffle but it escaped anyway; the hands that were just there and the arms that were barely touching her tightened the smallest bit of hold on her as the tears began trickling faster than she could sniff when they got caught up in her nose and momentarily cut off the necessary inhales. It didn't miss on her how sweet and careful he was responding, but she didn't dwell on it too much because it only made her cry more and meant that it would lead to digging deeper into the reason why than what already showed on the surface sometimes. She'd dug a long time ago but she wasn't sure she could actknowledge what she'd found. Hope. "I'm sorry, Graham, I'm sorry."

He wasn't the person she was supposed to be apologizing to, but she knew he knew the words weren't directed at him but meant for Killian.

"Shh..." Graham's lips moved against the top of her head as he spoke but she tried her best to ignore it and focus on what he said instead, "Killian is going to be fine. He was breathing, he is alive, I promise. It's just a matter of time before he wakes up, but he is breathing and the injuries aren't too appalling. I retrieved him myself so I know, and I can assure you your guest will be fine."

_My guest._

There was a paltry of resent that she caught when he said that, and it was a stark reminder of what Killian was in this palace: One of her subjects, one of her guests, and therefore whatever had been going on in that field should never involve the purposeful brush of their fingers again--even if it had made her magic hum with pleasure.

"Emma."

_There it is._

She didn't look up in fear that Emma and Graham would be lost to the Princess and the Guard again.

Of course it would never last. He had to pull away at some point and she had to let him go. She could practically  _feel_ how reluctant he was when he let his arms drop and took a couple steps back, emotion displaying clean out before he masked it away again and made the nineteen year old side of her twist from the hurt there was always left on him whenever their moment was done.

Emma couldn't remember the first time she'd seen it, but somewhere in those years of stolen moments was when it finally began to give him away.

And it continued the same way when the air stopped being suspended and they let each other be brought down by reality. Graham's face was grave as he walked past her to remove his knife from the wall, and her retreat back the way she'd come was soundless this time, becoming hasty only when she was out in the open again. A quick glance back showed her he was gone.

It also showed her that he'd defied his orders and let her do as she wanted.

* * *

Emma laid on her bed, head propped up by a pillow and absently staring at the ceiling as she twisted the brown shoelace from one of Graham's boots around her wrist.

A small smile appeared when the memory echoed, and so did their voices. The voices of youth and freedom and oblivion. Beautiful oblivion as they ran down the halls, her hand sliding smoothly against the wall as she did, feet flying under her--even then she was a silent runner, arising no noise in her wake--like she was running through a meadow and each fragile petal broke away into the air just by the soft sweep of her fingertips when she passed by. Her giggle of pure innocence, the one not yet aware of the role she was originally supposed to play in her kingdom. It was the one of a little girl with hair so lustrous to that of the sun's rays when they first began peeking out in the morning. The giggle made you go astray from your game because of how sweet and enchanting it sounded that it invited you to laugh in with her, so that's what he did. He joined in, stopping now and then to catch his breath as she taunted him ((( _You won't catch me, Graham, you won't catch me)))_ and then shrieking out in surprise and delight when he lurched forward again and tried to grab her but she jumped away from his grasp at the right time and made him miss ((( _That's not fair, you keep jumping))_ he huffed out in a whine and she smiled back at him. He smiled too despite how loudly he was panting now and then reached for her again, playfulness returning when she cried out ((( _But you're the hunter!)))_

She chuckled. The memory had held the little girl she felt was more gone year after year. The little girl who had known no walls and no masks and no doubts and no questions about herself yet. That little girl had been open and vulnerable and okay with being the prey. Emma didn't know why that memory also had the power to twist her in the wrong way, but it did. That girl had known nothing about being the Savior or the Queen, she'd simply been Emma. It prompted up jealousy for the oblivion she'd had. And how hard it was to be that child now, keep track of herself to not lose the things that made her her.  _Thought_   made her her.

Emma  _thought,_ but did it really?.

Did those things truly make her who she was?.

If not, then what did?.

Because she refused to believe it was a prophecy that got to decide that.

That ANYBODY got to decide that. 

It's all people seemed to do with her, stamp a label an expect her to be that. 

Her whole life being told who she was supposed to be. Now she wanted to punch back and said  _No, this is who I am._

A knock came at her door and she released the tight grip on the boot shoelace to hurriedly unwrap it from her wrist just as she bolted upright and immediately felt a small wave in her head make her gently sway back when she sat up too fast. She slid off the bed and ignored the bones screaming to be cracked from how long she'd been lying there thinking--hours--as she stood up and bent down to roll her right trousers leg up--proving to be quite hard because it was tight--and wrap the brown shoelace around her ankle to keep it safely tied to her before rolling the leg back down with one or two grunts and then finally straightening up to answer on the third knock, his lace covered like always.

One day she'd just taken it, and he'd never noticed. It hadn't been an impulsive move, but it did hold sentimentality she didn't want to risk him misinterpreting as something more so she kept it hidden from him and everyone else. Although Emma wasn't the jewelry type she preferred it as a bracelet, but since her ankle was the safest bet with the consistency of the skirts and long dresses falling all the way to her feet she kept it there instead. From when she'd first silently snatched it she knew it was just for her to know. The secret she carried on her ankle.

"Emma, open the door, it's me."

She was surprised to hear it was her mother's voice on the other side. She'd half expected it to be Graham, but then she was glad it wasn't because they'd had enough for today. Another part of her had also foolishly expected it to be Killian, magically appearing in front of her all good and better with no sign that he'd been injured. But the truth was she couldn't muster up the courage to go up to his room and just see him for herself like her heart had been asking her to do. The guilt weighed heavily and maybe that's why she'd lied down the minute she'd entered her room again after her and Graham's moment. Either way it hadn't helped because her mind had drifted to Killian all those hours, and her heart had been anxiously pounding on her chest throughout that time, with each breath urging her to get up and just go see him to put her worry at ease. Well, as eased as it would get. 

She'd fought it and she'd won. A glance to the window told her it was too late to decide to go now. Everyone would have retired to sleep already, that's where she figured her mother would be but apparently not. After the hectic of the past few hours of course everyone deserved their rest, but she still felt like she could stay up for the remaining of the night and maybe that's what she would do. Her magic was now steady but her mind and heart--particularly her heart--was running wild with guilt, and she allowed it too. She allowed it to swallow her up completely because what happened to Killian had been her fault. Plain and simple. True and hurtful. There was no changing that so she let the guilt be, afraid that if she did go to sleep he would replay in her head as a nightmare and not a dream.

In the silence of the room was when she admitted that she'd liked the dream. But only out loud once and no more than that.

"Emma?" Her mother called again but this time no knocking came.

She was hesitant as she walked out the door and then let her hand hover over the knob, obviously she could pretend to be asleep, but some odd pull made her open the door and there was her mother balancing a tray with two steaming cups of what was no doubt tea and a chalice filled to the brink with cubes of ice that were certainly melting as they stood there while her hand was poised to knock again.

"Hi," Snow breathed out with a fall of her shoulders and a small smile on her lips as she moved to hold the tray with two hands, cups rattling slightly dangerously on the metal as Emma nodded and gave out a whispered "Come in," further opening the door wider and stepping aside to let her pass.

Dinner hadn't really taken place anymore, and too be honest she wouldn't have been able to eat anyway so she was glad when no one came to summon her down or announce that dinner was still in order. No one summoned anyone down and no one would have joined her if she'd had gone. Liam made it clear that he would not leave his brother's side, and her mother had been with them throughout the entire rush and alarm of the situation. If she was here now then it meant that maybe Killian had woken up and was being attended to. Or maybe he'd woken up in the hours she'd locked herself in and her mother had now come to officially let her know. 

It had to be that. She hoped.

"I came to see how you were, Emma."

"Oh."

_And Killian?._

She watched her mother set the tray carefully down on the bed without spilling any liquid and then sit down at the edge of the mattress herself. Emma noticed that she still hadn't changed her attire as she briefly turned around to close the door and then come sit at the bed too when her mother patted the spot next to her. Once she was seated, tray in between them, her mother picked up one of the steaming cups and handed it to her, not commenting on how she'd decided to leave the lights off. With the moon spilling in through the window that was as much white light as she was going to allow.

Emma took the cup without a word, being mindful to hold it with the hand that had her good wrist and not the one that had taken the blow. She hadn't even bothered to attend to it or much less ask someone to check if it was broken, but if the fact that it hurt to move it even slightly was any indication then for sure it was more than somewhat sensitive. Her elbow seemed fine now but she tried to not put any pressure on it either and just stay seated with her back straight and shoulders pulled back despite how much she wanted to slump forward in her exhaustion. She held back from drinking the hot tea, waiting for it to cool down just a few more degrees while Snow took small quiet sips from hers and then set it back down on the tray after not even a full two minutes in. For a moment Emma thought that she was just going to watch her to make sure that she did drink the tea, but then her mother only picked up one ice cube and then softly lifted the hand with the injured wrist and placed it on her lap to bring the cold ice cube down and gently press it to where it was hurting, so if any melting began to take place--which it would because of the intense heat--then it would pool on her mother's clothes and not hers.

Emma couldn't keep in her sigh. "Oh that feels nice, thank you."

"You're welcome," Snow tilted her head and raised a shoulder in a shrug. "I guessed that you would no doubt ignore getting this checked when Graham told me about it after he found you and came back to tell me that you had escaped to your room before he could catch you."

Emma stayed quiet, focusing her eyes on the steam coming up like slithering waves.

"I assume Graham told you about Killian's injuries?"

"He mentioned."

"Well they are rough. He's going to need a good one or two weeks of rest. Maybe just one, depends on how he feels."

_Two weeks is the summer done._

She let out a shaky breath. "So he's awake now?"

"Yes," Her mother replied, flicking water from her fingers and grabbing another ice cube. "It took him a while. He kept coming in and out when we got him to his room and then he woke up for an hour and fell asleep. He asked about you."

That made her look up. "He did?"

_Why?._

"You were thrown back too and he wanted to know how you were."

Despite her incredulity to it, a smile still tugged at her lips.

Emma sighed. "Is Liam mad at me?"

She knew after today, whatever dislike had made him shoot daggers into her back all the way to the stables when he'd come between her and Killian, would increase more and for good reason now. She couldn't blame him now. 

"He's his brother, Emma, it's understandable, but I'm sure he doesn't hate you. We all know what happened was an accident. And...speaking of what happened, why DID it happen?"

She squirmed uncomfortably on her spot, remembering the brush of their fingers. "It was my fault. What happened was my fault and no one else's is."

Snow looked at her and then pressed her lips together, nodding and removing the cube from her wrist to put it back in the chalice, where half of the ice had melted by now, and then turning her attention back to her, hands clasped on her wet lap as she locked eyes with her and said, "Emma I'm going to ask you something and I need you to answer truthfully, alright?"

"Al...alright."  _Where is this going?._

"Did he hurt you?"

Emma almost dropped the tea in her surprise. "What?"

"Did Killian hurt you? Did he try something inappropriate and that's what caused you to react that way? because if he did then I completely understand and your father and I will--"

"No," She cut her off, head swirling with what she was saying. "no, no, I swear, he didn't--"

Her mother shook her head and placed both her hands on either side of her face as Emma stumbled to confirm. "I just want you to know, Emma, that if he did you ANY harm, if he tried anything, you can tell me. Your father will not hesitate to make him leave, and neither will I if he offended you in that way. You're my daughter, and I care about you. Your safety is important to me, and so is Killian's well being but not if it means that he could have the chance to hurt you again while in this palace."

Emma smiled, trying to shake her head in her grasp. "He didn't hurt me."

Snow studied her face, looking for any sign that she was lying, and when she found none, she nodded and took her hands away, settling back on her spot as Emma finally brought the liquid to her lips and had a sip. "Okay, I believe you."

She pushed the tray and scooted over to lay her head on her mother's shoulder, sighing and taking another sip as her mother asked, "Are you going to sleep?"

"Not yet."

 

 


	8. A First Chink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this chapter was meant to have Killian and Emma in it but it was going to be short and then it would move to the other thing that was going to take place afterwards but that got moved to next chapter and this chapter ended up being all them, FINALLY a whole chapter for themselves! so enjoy and thank you for everyone that's read this story so far!

Chapter 8: A First Chink

Unlike Killian, Emma did not decide to sneak out of her room in the middle of the night to apologize. Instead she waited until the morning, when she deemed it more appropriate to go. Somewhere around three or four was when she'd finally drifted but it had only been small naps, coming in and out and too much of her dangling the line between nightmares and reality for her to truly get any sleep. Finally when the first rays of sunlight began seeping through the window she resolved to not wait any longer and slid out of bed, with the pillows that hadn't even been touched and covers that hadn't even been ruffled. Getting changed though bleary eyes and a cloud of fatigue hanging over her head she managed to somewhat brush hair and throw on the simple blue sundress that was by far the most casual thing she'd worn around him.

It was a long dress and reached all the way to her feet (as per usual) to cover her feet and the blue flats she'd chosen to match with it. It was a light blue tone that was the closest resemblance to his eyes as she took the folds of the silky fabric between her fingers, but it was a flitting thought. It was another flitting thought when she imaged herself in this dress again, hair whipping in the wind just as much as the silk was doing behind her, and with the person whose eyes could nearly match the ocean they were ambling by. But she quickly shook that image away, there for a second and the next she was blaming the lack of sleep for the musing her mind was bringing on. She considered changing for a few minutes and putting on a more..more what?. It felt wrong to change now, specially when she found that she actually liked this color, probably more so because it kept taking to his eyes even though she willed it not to but it was only a half-hearted try since she dwelled right on it before officially turning away from her reflection and focusing her gaze on the door in front of her instead.

Emma ignored the crown sitting on top of a red velvet cushion by her bed when she passed by it and then quite roughly turned the knob, opening and stepping out with the door closing silently behind her.

Her hall was vacant. The beautiful nursery she'd slept in, played in, and grew up in for the most younger years of her life was just a few ways down, and she knew after her mother had left room wishing her a goodnight she'd gone into the nursery. There was something sad about her going there, like she was seeking the answers to their mother and daughter problems in the arms of plush toy animals and under the mobile of dancing uniforms-also blue. That was all this hallway held, her room and her old room, entirely meant to be just her hallway. No guards were present at the moment, probably patrolling more outer in the palace, but that wasn't what brought her discomfort. Emma wriggled her hands together nervously at her stomach as she began walking to the guest rooms hallways and repeatedly licked her lips to bring moist to her suddenly dry mouth, trying in futile to figure out in advance what to say to Liam first. No doubt that he would be there at Killian's side. She didn't know why saying her apologies to Liam seemed harder than saying her apologies to Killian, but it was. She needed to do this though, of course she had to, she needed to tell Killian that she hadn't meant to react that way to his touch, that...she wasn't about to pull away. Well, okay, maybe not tell him that last part but still. Emma shivered slightly and her fingers twitched at the memory because it was like their touch had happened again, and it rose up a fire inside her, hot and burning for...no.

Regardless they would never be close enough to do that again. And by close enough she meant herself because foolishly she'd been the one to do it first, to get caught up in a moment that shouldn't have been there. He shouldn't have been there. He shouldn't have gone to stand next to her. He shouldn't be seeking her out in these little quiet ways when it was just the two of them. It made her uneasy how  _easily_   they drifted towards each other. One second they could be standing at opposite ends or have a respectable amount of distance between them and then she would turn to him and her breath would get caught with how within reach he was. So close their arms could mistakenly brush if they liked. So close their hands could accidentally touch and end up entwining. It was strange how he always seemed to wander toward her but even more strange when she never truly tried to walk away. Why did he do that anyway?. Emma wasn't open to him, wasn't inviting, and had never given him a real smile but the ones she accustomed. Yet he was drawn. And she felt it was only a matter of days before he managed to coax it out of her. A real smile.

Two sides fought in a body. The side that wanted him to coax that smile for some unexplainable reason, and then the side that wanted him miles and miles away so that he could never get the chance to coax that smile at all and leave the polite ones she knew how to give.

She knew which side won when she arrived at the door.

Emma took a moment to compose herself, preparing for when she came face to face with Liam. The door was considerably open a crack but she still couldn't peek through. Leaning her body a bit forward, she was mindful of doing it silently and tucking a large fat strand of blonde hair that had escaped behind her ear again to be able to hear more properly as she turned her listening to the inside. It was quiet though. She didn't hear the voice of either brother. No talking. No whispering. But also no snoring. Of course she couldn't actually be sure that either of them did snore, but if not then... _this is about to be awkward_ because she knocked on the door anyway and if they had been sleeping then her second knock would have woken them up; She wasn't exactly gentle and light that time. Or for the third. It was rude but she wasn't about to risk backing out of seeing him. The apology should have been said yesterday, right away, immediately, and she should have been brave enough to come. Instead she ran away and made herself scarce. It was a cowards move, she could only imagine how despised Liam must be feeling towards and how offended Killian must feel about the person who hurt him and hadn't even bothered to ask how he was. She could have literally summoned up a maid or one of the guards that had helped get him up to ask for his state of being, but instead she'd shut herself up in her room and avoided the person who'd been the victim of a bad time. Just a bad time.

She wondered then, how many had seen her as the princess who ran away from her problems and maybe thought they'd gotten a glimpse of the queen who would do the same.

"Come in," came a husky voice sounding like he'd just woken up, and Emma briefly thought to the loud pounding he'd done to her door in the middle of the night and wanted to say something cheeky like  _Just returning you the favor_ but now wasn't the time for that, so she just slowly pushed the door open all the way and stepped past the threshold without a word.

One quick surveillance of the room and Liam was not here. Should she breathe in relief or in anxiety? because if he wasn't here then it meant her need to apologize would drag out all the more.

"Emma."

Killian voice carried surprise and tiredness as both his eyebrow flit up so fast that it almost made her laugh in amusement because they seriously seemed to have a mind of their own. A faint smile appeared on her when she heard only the ' _Emma'_ from his lips and no 'Your Highness' or 'Princess Emma' because for whatever reason he had taken it upon himself to simply call her by her name, and she liked it. It should have been disrespectful, but the way he said her name was like he was letting out something precious into the air, managing to make her sole name a higher endearment of respect and care than 'Your Highness' or 'Princess' could ever be.

It was different. She wasn't used to it, but he'd addressed her that way so many times that by now she wondered if it would feel weird when he did begin calling her 'Your Highness' and 'Princess Emma' when they were alone. Emma didn't want him to. That's why she didn't reprimand him for it the first time, because he'd put some sort of heavy meaning behind her name that 'Your Highness' or 'Princess Emma' could certainly not hold compared to it.

But the faint smile quickly melted away when she truly took him in.

He was lying on his back with at least four pillows to prop his head up but really the way they were unevenly stacked on top of another made his position more uncomfortable than how it supposed to be helping. The covers were twisted between his legs, and she guessed they were slick with sweat because of the way when he tried to shift upward he couldn't. It must have been excruciatingly hot too even with the window to his right opened but reduced from blowing any fresh breeze in with another day composed of killing heat and not the cool, dry temperature of the coming September. The sheets were pooled around his waist and she tried not to get too lost on the black chest hair visible out in the open, straight in her eye-range from the undone buttons of his shirt still on from the prior day. From where they stood his injuries were seeable but once she crossed the few steps to his bedside the purple bruises and red cuts on his face and neck became more prominent and the way he winced as he tried to sit up with no success indicated that his back was immobile along with his sensitive legs that made him flinch even when he only moved an inch.

She wanted to tell him that it was okay, to stop, to not try to move, but she was too struck by the sight of the obvious pain he was in and the obvious pain SHE had been the cause of to be able to utter any word and much less form a sentence. The guilt rained down on her in big heavy buckets. Somehow she still managed to gather enough saliva to make her mouth moist again and get the words out clearly without stuttering.

"I've come to apologize to you and Liam."

Killian smiled weakly and barely gave a nod, softly patting the empty space next to him for her to sit down, and upon doing that Emma caught more red cuts hiding under the sleeves.

"You don't have to stand there, come sit."

She hesitated at his offer but then decided to indulge him anyway. The spot she took kept her a good distance away from him, right at the edge of the bed while he was directly in the middle. Despite being guest rooms they still provided considerably large beds but right now Emma wasn't sure if she was grateful for that or not. There would be no drifting towards each other now. He couldn't very well move and if she wanted to touch him she would have to lean in, which means it wouldn't be noted as an accident anymore but their touches purposeful and deliberate to both of them.

"I, so, um, I've come to apologize to you and Liam," She repeated.

"Liam isn't here."

"Yes. I see."

_Say it now, Emma_ but her eyes were trained on the blackish bruise that stood out from the others, curling around the nape of his neck to where she could see it clearly stopping right at his pulse point. How had she not noticed that before?. All the shirts and formal attire he wore consisted of high collars, she recalled. So of course it would be blind to their eyes because it was artfully hidden by what no one would question but simply find attractive.

He suddenly turned his head to her and she startled, having been caught but he didn't inquire anything about it, though she had a feeling he knew she'd been staring at the no longer artfully hidden bruise. She cleared her throat but he beat her to it first before she could say anything.

"How are you?"

Emma tried to mask her surprise but it definitely slipped as her mind raced to understand what he'd said because  _is he joking?_   Had he seriously just asked her how she was when HE was the one lying in bed broken and beaten?.

She couldn't help it, "Are you serious?"

Killian chuckled, fixing his eyes on her. "Quite serious, as unbelievable as that may sound to your ears."

She searched his face but his voice and words were wholly earnest when he didn't waver his eyes from hers.

"You're right," Emma tipped her head back slightly to glance at the sad beige colored ceiling, somehow making the situation more punishing with its dullness. "It is unbelievable, you shouldn't be asking about me when you're the one that's badly hurt."

"Even if I'm hurt, that doesn't mean I can't ask about the other person who was also thrown back just as hard as I was."

"I'm fine," She replied steadily and then stretched the fabric of her sundress as if that could somehow emphasize but really it was to keep her good hand occupied.

"Your wrist and elbow took the worse of it then."

Emma looked at him. So he was quietly observant.

She sighed, closing her eyes and curling both her hands into fists that touched her chest and stayed there at her will but her magic was fine now. In fact, it was only a particular small hum that was dancing along her blood in its own beat and coursing past her bones in a snake-like fashion, gliding and slinking in between the joints in a manner that soothed and tranquilized, not the least bit threatening or dangerous if anyone got to feel it the way she was in this moment. Except as content as it could be, it could also easily turn on her in the flash of an instant and sometimes split out of her body so fast that she didn't even feel it leave her or  _knew_ immediately that it had until it had already struck its chosen target.

Opening her eyes she waited until his blue gaze met with hers again before she said, "I'm sorry, Killian."

She held back from saying 'I never meant to hurt you' and 'I didn't mean for that to happen' because as true as they were they couldn't change anything. The only thing that could truly change anything was the apology she was putting out to him. She hoped it was enough.

A part of her had expected the stir of refusal to settle on his attentive expression and a storm of indignation to grow fully present in his eyes that honestly seemed overdue by him. Emma could understand if that was his reaction, if he probably thought of her as selfish and inconsiderate to think that a small ' _I'm sorry, Killian'_   could fix everything. Of course it couldn't fix everything, it was just words she need him to know. Sincerity. But what she expected didn't happen. If anything his expression grew knowing, like he could tell there was some sort of internal battle going on within her, and then he gave her a lazy smile which made Emma's eyebrows shoot up.

"How about an agreement?"

"Okay..."

The lazy smile fell and his face turned serious, making it easier for her to concentrate  _thank god._ "I forgive you but you get to..." he trailed off on purpose and she narrowed her eyes at him waiting.

"And I get to.."

Killian grinned, "Fix these pillows because they're bloody uncomfortable under my head, Liam stacked them terribly wrong."

Emma broke out a laugh because she truly had been expecting something more serious but immediately leaned over to do as he said and then quickly realized it wasn't a feat she would be able to do from the edge of the bed so she turned around completely without thinking too much of it and climbed on top, sitting back on her heels next to him with her dress splayed out like a flower in bloom, and he lifted his head with a grimace as she tried to remove the pillows as fast as she could without touching him and then slipped them back in a more supporting pillar for his neck. She gave the mountain one hard pat to make them soft by the pressure of her palm and then nodded for him to let his head fall, which he did with a quiet sigh when the back of his head sunk deep into the faint handprint that had been left of her palm. She stared down at him like that for a few minutes, with his eyes closed and listening to his low breathing in and out as his chest rose up and down with it until finally it seemed to be back to a standard of normal and then he opened his eyes to catch her watching.

She didn't move. He was right  _there._ So, so close that her hands were itching to gently touch the purple bruises and red cuts with the tips of her fingers and nurse them back to health herself. He was right there. Right there and yet no. No more touches like last time. The price of her caress was right there in front of her, beaten and cut and broken and unable to move so when he smiled tiredly up at her she backed away and went back to her spot at the edge of the bed, ignoring the frown that made his smile fall downward to her abrupt turning away and then just keeping his lips pressed together in a thoughtful line before simply whispering, "Thank you."

"It was our agreement."

She should leave now. She'd already said her apology and she could find Liam later to say it to him too, but this was it. There was no other reason for her to stay here. She should get up and go and put some actual to God distance between them because already she'd lost count of how many times that'd backfired on both their parts.

What the hell was this? This continuous drifting toward each other. It was starting to annoy her.

But yet Emma stayed. For whatever damn, damn reason she stayed sitting on the edge with her feet dangling off the floor and keeping her focus solely on the wall in front of them to avoid looking at him again. She remained silent, unwilling to start any sort of conversation because then that would mean she was trying to be polite and she didn't want to be. She wanted to be real. Real meant staying here in silence, because other than the fact that she didn't know what to say, it was also the fear that if he did get her talking she would spill too much. He seemed to not mind her silence though. His eyes simply followed her line of sight and landed on the wall too. It was a tiny action she noticed, how he accepted her quiet.

"My brother actually didn't know you had magic."

Emma turned her head at him, confused. "My parents didn't tell you that?"

Killian winced when he shook his head, accidentally grazing the blacker bruise against the pillow. "No, we were both unaware of it when your father first rescued us. Then I wasn't."

"How?" She hadn't performed any magic in front of him for him to be able to tell before yesterday.

"Our dance." He answered simply and she froze.

Oh.  _That._ She remembered.

"When you pulled away," He continued. "I saw the spark."

"Yeah." It came out curt but maybe being direct about it was better than leaving him an open hole for him to wander through.

He studied her face for a minute and she willed her cheeks to not heat up now, but of course luck was never on her side and they flared up even more just to get back at her for trying to control inevitable body reactions. She stiffened in his gaze but refused to look away and make the embarrassment more obvious. The problem wasn't him, it was her, and that somehow triggered her defensiveness because she opened her mouth to probably snap something pretty like  _How about you look the hell away from my face_   but then he cleared his throat and beat her to it. 

"So, yes, I had a minimum hint about your magic but it was a vague idea since you don't use it so often as many would be honored to see."

Emma scoffed. "It's not an honor."

"You love it."

"Excuse me?"

"Your magic," Killian clarified. "you have a love for it despite how much of a burden you think it is."

"I don't think--" She cut herself off because he was so perceptively right that she drew back and lashed out instead, "So you think you know me now?"

His eyes widened at her loud snap, clearly not having expected it because frankly neither had she, but his voice remained low when he spoke, "No. I don't. But I see enough with my own eyes to be able to see the way that yours light up, so brief that I don't think you even notice it or can even feel when you do it. Perhaps those brief moments used to be longer and now you've lost them somewhere along...I don't know, Emma, I don't  _think_ I know you, but if anyone were paying attention they would be able to notice it too."

"So you were paying attention," The words came out whispered, like a secret.

"Aye." He closed his eyes and they both went quiet.

Emma exhaled," You're right," she confirmed. "There was a time when those brief moments were longer. Things were going well, I was excelling at my lessons and mastering my magic, it was good for my young age. And then I began to slow, then it became too hard, then it was out of my control and I hurt someone. Someone very close to me. It's been a long time since that forcefield came out, but it came out that day too and it was much stronger. What I did to you was horrible but what I did that day was worse because I stopped a heart. This person already had a fragile heart, not the same as ours, and my magic took its life for a whole minute until it started beating again out of pure luck. So you see how those brief moments can't become longer when things like that happen."

"I know," Killian said slowly. "that magic is tethered to emotions. So what was your emotion that day?"

"I honestly don't remember." Emma felt a void at that for her inability to remember something as strong as her emotion. How could someone forget that though? How could you forget the exactly feeling that was the cause of all that hurt?. A tremendous guilt awoke once again for that day and her mother's sweet voice rang horrified  _Emma!_

"It's alright," He whispered gently, pulling her attention back to him when he interrupted the ringing. "instead, what were you feeling in the field?"

She didn't even stop to scrutinize for the real method of why he was asking. He just waited for her answer.

"Fear."

"For what?"

"Does it matter, it still happened."

"It does. There's thinking you fear something and then there's the actual fear."

"That's the same thing."

Killian merely smiled to her incredulity. "Emotions run deep, Emma, there's always more."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Are you implying that there could be more to me than just sitting here?"

He winked, "I don't know, Princess, you know your reasons."

Emma gaped at him in split amusement and disbelief. "Are you actually flirting with me right now?"

"Blame my fever."

Her eyes widened. "Wait, are you hot?"

Killian smirked. "You tell me."

"Stop," She warned but her laughter overcame her and so did his chuckle after he coughed; she sobered up quickly. "You know it's not wise of you to do that."

He faked offense. "I was being quite serious until you decided to go and assume."

"I'm just going to pretend you didn't say that."

"And I'm just going to pretend you're not enjoying this."

"This what?"

"This..." He paused to wiggle his eyebrows. "me."

Another laugh burst out, and she tried to make her face serious but failed when he continued wiggling one up and down at her expense. "You think this that I'm enjoying is your presence?"

"Oh one can only hope, darling."

The smile that was already on her face grew just a bit wider at the endearment.

She suddenly realized how wrapped up she'd gotten in their playfulness and the last remnants of her laughter drained from her face. He immediately noticed the change in her mood and his own eyes lost their mirth by following her shift, maybe thinking that he'd gone too far with that little slip when he already ignored her 'Your Highness' or 'Princess Emma'. But it wasn't that. It was that he was sort of right and she was sort of bad at hiding it. This was also not right, to put it in the most plain out way.  _Your fault for staying._

When he spoke again his voice was devoid of the joking from before and back to his general noting. "You looked like you didn't sleep a wink last night."

"The same could be said of you."

Killian gave her a small smile, tiredly tilting his head to the side. "That's because I didn't."

Emma shrugged, "At least you're honest about it."

"And you?"

She sighed, "Sleep was hard to come by, yes."

His eyes crinkled. "See? now you were honest about it too."

She rolled her eyes and the smile came anyway despite her hesitation. She just looked at him for a minute with her head tipped to the side on her shoulder to the outstretched arm she was leaning on in her study of him. "Do you always--"

"Killian?"

Both their heads snapped to the door. Liam stood there with his hand still on the knob, just barely crossing the threshold.

"Ah, good morning, brother," Killian called out as Emma stood up fumbling with the skirt of her sundress, quickly skimming her hands over the back to make sure that none of the fabric had ridden up while she was seating and that there was no exposed skin there on open view to either of them--specially Killian since her back was to him when she walked over to Liam; He was still paused at the entry, lips parted slightly as if he'd been about to say something but gotten lost in staring at them in confusion instead.

_Here we go..._

Emma cleared her throat and upon doing that it seemed to settle Liam's attention on her when she finally reached him and stood in front of him, deliberately blocking Killian from his view. She watched the realization of her now standing in front of him slowly dawn over his features and then when he blinked she could tell the smile he gave her was strained when it met in retribution to her polite one.

"Oh, good morning, Your Highness." The bow was stiff and she saw the twitch in his smile when he bent low at the waist to do it. The only other sign of his discomfort for her being here was the tension in his shoulders when he straightened up and the small inch of his eyebrows wanting to come knit together.

Emma nodded. "Good morning, Liam." and then she paused, searching for the words that abandoned her under Liam's silent scrutiny and made it harder her to think. "I've come to apologize to you about what happened yesterday...with your brother."

He looked at her with his hands clasped behind his back, maintaining himself respectful while he delivered the next words dry and serious. "I believe, Your Highness, that the person you should be apologizing to is Killian."

"Yes. I know, but--"

His voice was low--maybe so his brother wouldn't hear. "With all due respect, Your Highness, but my brother is the one that needs to forgive you."

"I already did, Liam!" Killian's voice called from behind her and she tried to bite back her smile when she saw Liam grit his teeth, obviously displeased by his brother's response.

She took that as her opening to get the words, "So I've already apologized to your brother and I wanted to apologize to you too because of the crossfire Killian was caught in between me and my magic. You have to know that wasn't intended and the last thing I would ever want to do is hurt your brother, so I'm sorry for what happened yesterday. Truly sorry."

"The Queen expressed her sentiments very clearly about that yesterday."

It was easy to read under the words. He was bitterly masking how her mother had been the one to bring her apologies when it should have been her.

"Yes, well now I bring my own and I hope you can accept them." There was the hint of annoyance in her tone that she knew she shouldn't feed but the criticism in his eyes put her on edge and confirmed one thing: They would never get past the polite smiles and polite conversations.

His face was neutral and the smile he tried fell short. "You're forgiven."

_Doubtful._

Liam cleared his throat, "Now if you don't mind, Your Highness, I would like some time alone with my brother."

"Of course," Emma didn't hesitate and walked out without a single glance back.

Once the door was officially shut, she closed her eyes and exhaled.

The hard part was over.

And the harder realization came next.

She had just confided in Killian.

_Oh one can only hope, darling._

Apparently he didn't need to.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, my dear friends, until the next the four chapters!


	9. A Stinging Choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it has honestly felt too long since I updated but all four new chapters are written and currently in the mist of being typed up. Although its actually been a month (FULL MONTH, WHAT) since the last chapter came out, it feels like forever doesn't it?. To refresh your memory: Emma visited Killian in the last chapter, David is still not back yet (but hint,hint, in either chapter 10, 11, or 12 he will be cause he's been gone since like chapter 4), Emma and Liam had their brief talk (where everyone sort of hated Liam's guts) and so this chapter is the continuation of the same day Emma went to visit Killian and apologize. Sorry, no Killian in this one, but some mother and daughter drama is about to go down, hope you like it!

Chapter 9: A Stinging Choice

"Your Royal Highness, are you awake?"

Emma stood right at the window, staring out to the town with the sun directly hitting her face, its heat burning fiercely at any exposure of her skin that was provided with the sundress--which in this case was her crossed arms and brooding expression that she'd had on for at least an hour now since her return from Killian's room. Before her the town was bustling with motion, townspeople and the usual coming villagers that came now and again, being found among the foreigners of other kingdoms that were passing through and taking advantage of the little shops, well known bakeries and restaurants, and the vast marketplace that stretched on two miles in space and variety of different stands for jewelry, clothing, children's toys, frequenting more and more books but still not as much as she would truly like to see whenever she got in the mood to go out and buy one from there instead of waiting for the monthly new books that always came to join her ever-growing library. Sometimes it was one or two, and sometimes her luck would extend to four but they came at the first beginning day of every new month per her father's request to please her love for literature.

Snow was the one that noticed first the increased amount of time she spent at their library the first year Belle was gone. Before it was a little, but when she began hanging out with Belle and came upon her nose buried in some book she ended up always getting her nose buried in some book too. From then it slowly grew until that was the main activity she would be found doing after school almost every day in comparison how she and Belle used to do it together.  _Perhaps that's why,_ Emma thought now, was the reason why she'd gotten so further attached to books. Because they reminded her of her and Belle's afternoons doing the same thing in comfortable silence, so maybe it was another crony she was searching for in the mist of all that reading by herself, to fill in the empty chair her best friend had left. Of course no one would be able to replace Belle, but still she wished for another friend to spend with or completely waste time with.

Friendship was hard like that, she realized. It was a challenge to find the few in between that truly wanted her as a friend and didn't constantly only see the invisible crown on her head that forever marked the power and wealth she would one day have once her parents chose to retire from the throne. Hard to find the people that weren't at her side because they believed she could be a tool to a higher status despite the good status they were already on. Or the ones that were secretly lurking for expensive gifts and latest invitations to the King and Queen's balls and other famous traditions for Misthaven.  _Used_ was the word that fit the description for all their false smiles and chats. They just wanted to use her for their own behind the scenes intentions and only once had she fallen for their tricks until she chose to distance herself from everyone if it meant no lies and no continuous spurious that many were good at being to her face. It was too many that wanted to give her their trust only to snatch it back from her hands or break it themselves, for her to able to loosen up, even a little, and let her guard down now.

_So perhaps that's why_ she was so alone and friendless, because she'd become too wary of others around her to forget when not to be wary. To let herself not be wary for once. As it happens to turn out, the complete stranger that appears at her home is the one that gently yield her heart to not be wary. Because so far it's not wary she'd been around him--funny how she hasn't and it's like she keeps waiting to be--but in danger of being the opposite. Not dangerously close, but close-close all the same. Their time together an hour ago indicated that and pointed red lights in that direction and yet... _why couldn't Liam's ass appear more later?._

_"Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light,"_ she whispered to absolutely no one but herself. The guard couldn't hear, he was outside and still waiting for her to respond but she didn't want to. It also didn't skip her mind how it was still fairly early from when they usually had breakfast, which no doubt was why the guard was asking her if she was awake to escort her down. It would be just her and her mother there anyway, and she realized one of the reasons why she didn't want to go down was because Killian and Liam wouldn't be there and for once she wanted to endure and go through the polite smiles and conversations if it meant that every that had happened yesterday had just  _not_ happened and their awkwardness around each other could continue. Emma really needed to stop wishing it hadn't happened and just deal with the fact that it had, accept it and confirm it but she didn't want to. Ha, that was the problem wasn't it?.

How she didn't WANT to, but had to.

How she didn't WANT to do all these things, but had to.

It was the WANT that got in her way. She simply needed to stop wanting, needed to stop being so foolish with the idea that things could turn around for herself. That just wasn't written for queens or princesses, or any monarch. They were meant to rule and serve, her heart's desires couldn't come into play. Both her parents had cheated life on that, with being able to have true love in their matrimony along with leading an entire kingdom in their hold. But they were Snow White and Prince Charming, forever the heroes, and she was just the dutiful daughter, practically unknown to their loyalists and followers and just expected to grow up to be like her mother.  _Well they're wrong,_ she thought bitterly, because in many ways than one she and her mother were not alike. The speeches of hope for one. Emma despised them half the time because seriously? how could you hope all the time? how could you possibly see the good in someone again and again without fail? how the hell could her mother be like that? how could she be such a damn optimist and Emma such a...realist?. She briefly wondered if this was how she would have grown up in another life. A life without her parents for twenty-eight years just like the prophecy had stated. In what ways would she have been the same, in what ways different. What kind of Emma would her adult-self be like in the life when the prophecy did come true?. Somehow she couldn't imagine a 'passionate believer' to be one of her strong characteristics. 

"Your Highness?" A harder knock on the door came this time and his voice had become more insistent, it made her wonder how many minutes had already passed but still she made him wait longer before calling back,

"Yes I'm awake! What is it?" Emma rolled her eyes at her own question,  _breakfast obviously_ is what it was. She wasn't a morning person despite practically being raised to be one by her mother, and the fact that she'd only gotten three or four hours of sleep was now exhibiting the effects through her arising annoyance and recurring yawns, along with the continuous rubbing of her eyes that no doubt had nice dark circles in greeting for anyone that got to see her this morning. Her nose suddenly wrinkled,  _did I really go to his room like this?._ No wonder Liam had been quick to get her out...she wasn't exactly a sight for sore eyes, more like the  _sore_ in  _someone's_ eyes. It wasn't half bad but it also wasn't her best. The sundress did her some justice, but his eyes had been on her face the entire time and somehow that made her wince because already she'd been in a vulnerable state without him or Liam having to see how the princess looked when she didn't get enough sleep. 

"Breakfast with the Queen, Your Highness. She requested an early one in contrast to your usual eight or nine' o clock ones."

"Did she have a particular reason why?"

"No, Your Majesty didn't say."

"Alright," Emma sighed. "I'll be out in a minute."

"Yes, Your Highness."

She walked away from the window to stand over the mirror and attempt  _something_ but she still couldn't help asking, 

"And the two guests in the palace? What about them?"

The guard's response was swift and flat, "The injured guest will be having all three meals in his room until recovery, and the one that is his brother was granted by the Queen to have them with the injured guest as well. They will not be at the table, Your Highness."

_Of course._ She knew but needed to hear it.

"Okay, thank you for the information and...you are dismissed. I will be escorting myself down today."

His voice started tight with protest and she closed her eyes in exhaustion. "But the Queen gave me orders to--"

"Yes!" Emma snapped, eyes popping open to her reflection in the mirror and then angrily turning around to face him even though he wasn't in the room. "And you also take orders from  _me,_ so it is fine when I say you are dismissed." she exhaled through gritted teeth, "There will be no problem with the Queen, I assure you, you can go. Thank you for the information, good morning and you are dismissed."

"Yes, Your Highness. Good morning and your welcome." He was reluctant, she knew he was still standing at the door and could imagine he had also said it through gritted teeth by the way his tone had turned hard, but she heard his retreating footsteps shortly after. 

_Ugh, nice, Emma, nice._

 She rubbed her temples in an attempt to soothe her frustation. That could have gone differently, certainly, but they undermined her control too much and ignored the very real fact that she could have a say in it too--the result of so many years following her parents orders and never once lifting a finger to speak otherwise. Well maybe they shouldn't be surprised now, she was bound to become queen after all. That's what queens did. They gave out their own orders and what's to say her guard was so resistant to that one simple one from her?.  _One._ Was that really how much she'd kept her mouth shut, to the point where her having a say was so unexpected?. Ha, well they could definitely start swallowing that because she needed a say. Come September, it would be her final year. Time would run out quickly after that and her coronation would come even quicker. Maybe not right away, but there was a reason they called the princess's  _nineteenth_ school year the ' _Final Year' ._ Technically it was, but it served much greater purpose than all her other school years.  _So that's what I need to do,_ Emma thought. Get to her school advisors first. It would be a risk, specially today with how sensitive her wrist was. She wouldn't be able to go on horse. By carriage it could do, but she would preferably walk. The town was far, not as close as it seemed from her window view, but it wasn't so far that it would take hours to get there. Her parents would be pissed when they found out she had done the selecting herself, but if it was her final year then it would also be her final say. They wouldn't like it, even more strongly because her father wasn't back from Corona yet but all the more added reason to it.

_Yes._

Emma eyes were bright when she turned back to the mirror and rapidly ran her fingers through her hair to collect it all into a loose ponytail and then rush out the door to the dining hall where her mother had waited long enough.

She hurried down the stairs, keeping one hand on the railing for safety while the other held a pinch of her sundress up on the side to allow her to run down the steps without breaking her neck in the process, in case her feet suddenly got tangled with the swaying of the silk at the bottom. All regular walking and graceful, calm coming down was pushed aside in favor of getting there faster. She only slowed when she turned the corner and saw the two guards standing at the doors of the dining hall as per their usual round and presence. Composing herself from the exhilaration and giddiness the running and her decision had brought on, she made her expression blank to reveal nothing away in preparation for when she saw her mother, but still gave them one polite smile and nod for the guards to move aside and let her enter.

It turned out to be futile when she saw the person standing next to her mother.

"Blue?"

Both the Queen's and the fairy's head turned when they heard Emma, the conversation they'd been having immediately dropping.

_Damn it._

She figured her mother would call upon Blue to talk about her magic problems--specially how Emma had never claimed how anything was except for 'great' and Blue herself hadn't expressed any worries to her parents--so she wasn't so surprised to see her already here, day after the accident. But she'd also hoped she would be halfway toward the town before she appeared. Of course that was now out the window, since by the looks on their faces they'd been talking about something serious and without any further examination that something serious had been her. Now who knows how much time this would take. With her mother and the breakfast still to be had,  _an hour probably,_ and with her teacher's accompanying presence and the overdue discussion she could see was about to come down, maybe more. Her will to go to town still hadn't changed, and her decision to talk to her school advisor was still set, but obviously she was now slightly derailed from getting there. Doesn't matter. Emma could be patient and determined. This was the first step to taking control and she damn well intended to go through with it no matter this delay.

Blue's smile was careful when she directed it towards her.

_Of course,_ Emma thought sourly,  _if I go down, you're going down with me._

Those lies about getting better and rest is all you need, blah, blah, blah nonsense was about to blow up in their faces and it would be BOTH their faults because Blue had chosen to keep it in the quiet and Emma had chosen to follow.

"Good morning, Emma."

"Good morning, Blue." She tried for a smile but it became a frown. Internally she shrugged, at least her displeasure was clear.

"Emma, honey," Her attention flicked to her mother who had not moved to greet her as she usually did and was fidgety next to Blue; those movements she didn't see often, but it was of nervousness and that she couldn't understand why but apparently she wouldn't have to wait long to find out because she went straight to the point to both her dread and surprise. "Blue and I have spoken and she's come up with a suggestion. It would be temporary fix until we find a permanent solution, but for what it's worth, I honestly think it could work."

"What...could work?" She hesitantly asked, eyes bouncing between her mother and Blue who remained composed and gave nothing away to her fast risen confusion and alarm.

"This." Blue stepped forward and waved her wand over her waiting palm, where not even a few seconds later, a single solid black cuff appeared and she held it out to her.

Emma only eyed it. "What is  _that_ for?"

"It will keep your magic restrained." Blue answered, unfazed.

Her eyes widened at the last word and she turned to her mother, "What? Restrained?"

Snow swallowed worriedly at her expression and the index finger from her right hand tapped nervously on the ring that was on her left hand as she took a step forward too and reached for Emma's hands, which she slowly let her take in hers as she softly insisted, "Emma, it could work."

She was repelled. "What? You...you want to restrain my magic? What are you even...? Mom, what are you saying?" she snatched her hands back from her grasp and took a step away from her, scowl unable to be held in this time when she took in the look on her mother's face and realized she was being serious. "wait, you actually want me to do this?"

Her mother fumbled with the explanation, "Yes! Yes, I do want you to, I think it could work and let's be truthful Emma, we both know your lessons haven't been paying off the way you've told your father and your control hasn't gotten any better, in fact its gotten worse over the years and the rest I told Blue to give you didn't work so--"

_Wait._

"Hold on," Emma put a finger up to cut her off and her mother looked reluctant but did so anyway at the frown firmly set on her face now. "The rest  _you_ told Blue to give me? so that means you knew this whole time about...about how slow things have been going and the no progress, the difficulty, this whole time you knew! And every time I told dad that it was great, you knew I was lying and you didn't say anything, why? why didn't you? why didn't you say anything? To him, or accuse me of keeping it from you?"

"Because I trust you to handle things by yourself."

Emma couldn't hold in the laugh that came out at that and the way she said it so sincerely like she truly believed it when this whole suggestion was demonstrating the opposite. "You are saying that you trust me to handle things by myself but you obviously don't believe it if you think this cuff is my best chance! Because you think that and don't try to deny it, mother, because I can tell that you want to make it seem like it's my choice but really the choice has already been made by you, just like how you've been keeping tabs on me throughout all my lessons and not saying anything about it because you told me that your faith and trust was completely on me, but really it isn't and you just don't want to admit that!"

"Oh for God's sakes, Emma!" Snow threw her hands up in exasperation but Emma's glaring didn't waver. "I DO trust you, and I DO have faith in you, how can you even say that I don't? And it's not even a permanent thing either, we just don't have many abundant options right now!"

"You don't have many options? How about letting  _me_   find the control?!"

"And has that worked so far?" Snow fired back. "Tell me, Emma, has it? What happened yesterday with Killian...its happened twice already, it can't keep happening. And if that cuff is the only thing right now that will stop you from doing it again--"

She scoffed. "You think I  _intend_ to do that? You think that my intentions  _are_ to do that? Don't you think that I'm just as scared of it as you are! BECAUSE I AM SCARED  and it is ten times worse than you are!"

Her mother's voice turned dangerously calm, which meant she was a minute away from exploding as hard as she had. "You need to consider the safety of this kingdom. You need to consider the fact that two people almost..." her voice wobbled. "...died. And you need to consider that if it hasn't worked out so far then maybe  _this_ could be something you should try."

"Fine." Emma stepped forward and held out her left wrist to Blue. "Put it on."

The words were delivered cold and through gritted teeth, and her steely green eyes never moved away from her mother's when she said it. The tight line of her lips didn't disappear as Blue sighed--probably incredibly wary of both of them after everything that had finally been said and how high on anger they were still running--and slipped the black cuff on, clicking it firmly shut with the hidden keyhole Emma hadn't noticed was embedded on there for the sole platinum colored key.

The effect was almost immediate. At first she didn't feel it, but then it felt like it was choking her magic the way that someone would choke her with a hand at her throat. The resistance her magic did was clear in the veins when it was forced to stop its coursing through the blood, practically feeling it like a million painful little pinches and bites inside her skin when the sparks and flickers had no choice but to freeze in their movement and come to an abrupt stop that made itself known by the new throbbing that replaced the calm beat that had been going on before. In the throb, her magic was fighting to get out, squirming in all directions, seeking a way out but irritably bumping into the protective walls of the cuff's leather so they were kept tamed. Despite her magic being the most lively in her hands, the effect brought an itch through her entire body because the light magic was truly  _everywhere_ , on every space, bone, joint, vein, it entrapped it and made her grimace as it was set on fire in its seizing. The effect lasted long enough to make her dizzy for a minute before she came back to her senses and the harsh pinches and bites less, along with the downhill of the new throbbing until she could barely feel it and then it was practically nothing but a simple cuff on her wrist.

But it was in no way a flashy bracelet for her to wear. It was a way to contain her, and that's all Emma could think about as she stared as it through hard eyes. The tame it did to her magic was still  _there_ though after the initial sting, but it was just a small low buzz that was angry and impatient.

She winced when she felt something cool be placed on her other hand and shifted her gaze to the same platinum key that had closed her cuff shut tight.

"The key can open it again," Blue explained. "but so can everyone else. They can take it away as if it were a mere bracelet, but you can't. You can pull, twist, and try to pry it open with knifes and various weapons of choice, but it won't work if you're still the one wearing it."

"Joy." Emma said flatly.

"How do you feel?" Snow's eyes were bright with hope that she knew she would have recoiled from if she was still holding her hands in her grasp.

"Like I wished you would have put your faith in me instead of in this."

The hurtful look that crossed her mother's face in that moment was enough to make her want to take a lot of words back, but she quickly turned to Blue before she could have the chance to say anything in response and asked,

"Why are you giving me the key?"

"It's enchanted so that when you feel ready, you can release the cuff yourself or for when you need a break from it."

_So always then..._

"...but," Blue continued. "ONLY when you feel ready. Don't do it on a whim to be free of it because it has been made aware to everyone in the palace to put it back on you when they see you not wearing it until Snow White gives them specific orders that you are allowed to be seen without it."

"So really giving me the key is just for sympathy because everyone in my home is just going to force it back on me whether I want to or not..."

"I imagine you will use the key when you are alone or heading to sleep, those are the most secure times for you to do it," Blue nodded.

"Well then," Emma said dryly, fixing them both with an apathetic look. "now that all my rules have been given, am I free to go?"

Her mother took a step forward and she quickly took another step back. "But what about breakfast?"

"I'll grab something in town," Emma said turning around.

"You're going into town right now?"  Her mother questioned, no doubt about to protest but she kept walking towards the door.

"Yes."

"Emma, you can't. You can't take a horse, your wrist is in no way healed yet."

_Because somehow heading into town is going to make the healing process slower..._

"I'll walk then."

"Emma, you'll get tired. It's far. Take a carriage, at least."

"No thanks."

"You can't go alone, Emma. You need to take guards with--"

The doors slammed shut and the two guards standing in her way swiftly stepped aside to let her pass.

That was the rudest thing she had ever done to her mother, but there was a first time for everything.

 

* * *

 

 

The minute she was out of the palace's grounds and a few feet away from the tall, dark imposing gates was when she was met by a path that led directly to town. Pulling at the cloak tighter around her shoulders she began walking, choosing not to glance back at the guards who had given her stern looks when she informed them she would be going unaccompanied and who in return had asked to make sure if she was wearing the black cuff on her wrist. It only half-surprised her when that question came up, specially because the topic of the black cuff hadn't been brought up until recently and that was  _very_ recently, but then she realized that her mother had probably thought about this beforehand and that's how every guard was already so well aware of it. 

The weather today felt particularly hotter but it was hard to tell if it was truly the sun's fault or her anger still scorching embers. Ten minutes in and she was already sweating disgustingly, the drops of moisture gathering at the back and rolling down in unpleasant trails all the way to her feet (thanks to the fact that she was still wearing her sundress, which allowed it to roll more freely and openly down the sides of her legs) as she tried in vain to wipe at the trickles beginning to go down the sides of her face that came to hug her at the neck and quickly made her collarbone and front slick with wet. She still couldn't find it in herself to feel regrettable about not taking a carriage, even after twenty more minutes passed in the same state. Despite the vileness of this heat, the forest itself provided a bright spot with its bold, shamrock green bushes, leaves, and shrubs sitting in their own spaces with the occasional butterfly fluttering by, chocolate tree trunks extending themselves in front of her and running as high as twenty to thirty meter in height. Clean, cloudless blue sky could be seen above and the sun's hell rays came in slants through the branches, shining beautiful harsh glares past the leaves and making her location more alive and radiant with its simple way of nature. The quiet and stillness the forest preserved made the long one hour and thirty minute walk worth her while, of this she was certain by the time she appeared at the docks and then crossed the bit of distance left to where the town was waiting.

What  _did_ surprise Emma was that her mother hadn't sent a number of guards coming after her halfway through her walk or made them secretly follow her all the way here just to make sure she was safe and sound. Although her senses weren't as sharp as a skilled hunter or professional tracker, she could tell as much that she hadn't been followed by the attentive listening she'd done the entire time for any sign that any other human would be close in her perimeter. The loud clinking that some of the guards armor did also helped in making them known to her, but there had been none of that.

Once she was officially inside the town's area she hurried past the little shops, restaurants, and bakeries, hoping (and blessedly) to go unnoticed by the people strolling about in a calm, casual manner compared to her more haste one. She quietly said her 'Excuse me' and 'Sorry' as she went past and around women with their husbands and men with their large families and numerous children running here and there as she managed to make it to her destination without her face or voice giving her away. She felt slightly bad when she passed by August and his father's workshop and didn't even stop to say hello like she always did, or how she felt a relief when she didn't bump into her godmother on an accidental chance they were both in town, but truly she didn't feel good company for anyone today after the soar her mood had taken and the fatigue that was still latched on to her.

She breathed easier when the golden building was finally in her sight and didn't stop to admire how glorious it appeared with the sun directly hitting its polished surface and making it gleam stronger with the added light. Emma would be seeing enough of the building come September so instead she walked toward the doors to open one of them and got to the main in short, quick steps. The receptionist was already there, as she knew she would be. With the school year fast approaching of course they would start getting settled in weeks before, probably since the beginning of the month to have everything ready and all information in place for the returning students. She'd picked a good time because none of the garners had begun their yearly rounds to each student's private household yet to decide on the matter of which subjects yes and which subjects no.

And that's exactly where she intervened.

"Your Highness," The friendly woman smiled upon seeing her. "how can I help you today?"

Emma smiled back. "I've come to speak to my school advisor. Personally. About the classes I'll be taking this year."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just because:   
> "Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light" is one of my favorite quotes.


	10. A Goodbye's Hello

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it!

Chapter 10: A Goodbye's Hello

It ended up taking two hours for her intervention to be complete. Emma wouldn't deny the satisfaction she felt once she was out of the golden building, and the waiting satisfaction she knew would be there to greet her on the first day when her classes officially begun, was indeed all the reminder she needed to push all guilt aside and bring a smile to her face. This was all hers this time. The garner could suck it if he tried to create a protest, because OH GOD KNEW how incredibly devoted each garner was to his job, thinking of the golden building like it was heaven and not a school. But that was also one of the major reasons why the school was such a ceaseless success and so famously known past Misthaven's borders. Kingdoms beyond their own were aware of the prestigious school and the mile long list of available fields and just simple ordinary subjects. Yes, Misthaven had definitely grown under Snow White and Prince Charming's rule--once they were ensured the Dark Curse would be forever terminated by never allowing it to come in the first place. Before that, stopping the Dark Curse had been their only aiming goal and now that it had been out of the way for nineteen blessed years the kingdom had been able to prosper in both wealth and health. The golden building was just one of the many following accomplishments, but it was favored and loved. Not just by the dedicated staff that worked there.

The advisor had been a bit difficult. Emma wasn't blind, she had seen his suspicion and uncertainty for the whole of those two hours but as the daughter of the founders for the very building he worked in there wasn't much he could deny her. Throwing in the little word of 'Princess' to her name made for what she asked for easier and more accessible, and that's exactly how it turned out. The lie she'd told about the King and Queen being okay with this had made her uncomfortable in her chair because they would be anything BUT okay with this. They would be pissed and Emma couldn't blame them for that, it was going behind their backs that she was doing this but her mother wasn't so far herself. The cuff was Emma's evidence. She expected nothing less of her parents once they found out but their general disapproval, but if she was smart--and she would be--then she would find a way to spin this in a direction that pleased both of them. Of course her mother would be the harder picket, compared to her father, and an ugly part in Emma's mind didn't doubt that she would try to bring on accusations to her based on their recent discussion. That same part in Emma's mind also knew that if her mother started with accusations, she would respond with answers of their previous talk. Talk about becoming a queen, something she despised would help in putting this choice in her parent's favor. And if not...there really shouldn't be an 'if', it was unlikely that this choice would bring them to such unhappy terms. Above it all she firmly thought they would understand. It wasn't on a whim she had chosen the classes she had. They were certainly different and more daring than all the ones she had taken in the past years, but it was NOT on a whim-type-of-decision. Although the advisor had subtlely hinted at how unusual it was for a princess to take up these classes, she was well aware of it and also so well aware of how good it felt to pick them on her own and have every single class she chose to be based on her personal likes and dislikes. There would be a rocky road between her and her parents when they found out, of this she was sure, but she was also sure they would get over it and move on.

Emma hadn't lost her determination even as she was on her way to walking back home with the intent of what she'd wanted having been set, it only made her stronger, and she knew when the confrontation came she would still be--

A twig cracked and she turned.

Her mouth clamped shut, deciding to quietly observe her surroundings first before casting any warning. She snapped her head to the right and to the left, trees on either side of her and squinting past the hundreds of trunks that came one after the other to see if she caught sight of anyone trying to escape through silent steps or continue to creep toward her with the help of overgrown bushes, shrubs, and brown, fat logs as their cover. There was no rustle of movement though and no shift of color that didn't belong to the forest's regular hues, the path she'd been walking on was empty of anyone else going the same way, and the dust in front of her showed no sign of somebody having hastily scurried past it or any human shoe or boot print for that matter. She figured it had been some animal and she'd just overreacted with the curled fist that she'd almost reflexively done. Her hand relaxed again and the other hand that had flown to the black cuff on her wrist dropped as she turned to continue forward when someone's breath came at her ear and her scream was muffled by the hand that quickly came to cover her mouth from behind.

"Hello there, Princess."

Her eyes widened at the familiar voice and she angrily took his hand off her mouth, slapping his arm away and then spinning around to shove him back with her good hand, already annoyed by his presence. 

"Quinn!" Emma shoved him again. "You scared the hell out of me, you stupid wolf!"

He just carelessly dusted off a ball of fur stuck to his dark umber leather jacket and then crossed his arms, bored expression on his face as he took in her startle. She rolled her eyes, adjusting the cloak with a huff as if it would protect her from any more sudden frights, and then shot him a glare before silently turning around to begin walking in quicker, longer strides.

Quinn caved in after a minute. "Woah, wait!" and easily ran the small bit of distance she'd put between them to catch up to her, but she ignored him and went on as if he wasn't walking by her side now too. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry. I apologize for scaring you so much, is that good now? Am I forgiven?"

Emma resisted the  _intense_ urge to not roll her eyes again at what he thought was his  _proper_ way of apologizing and just chuckled darkly instead, without a trace of humor in it, still unwilling to say a word to him.

"I saw you leaving town," He continued nonchalantly. "and I was having the abnormal eleven'o clock breakfast when I saw your beautiful, expensive face passing by."

This time she scowled, " _Expensive?"_

He turned his head to look her over and then deadpan, "Well you're royalty, my dear. It's a given."

Emma scoffed and shook her head deciding it was pointless to say anything to that and just continued walking her same pace, hoping he would get the hint and run back to town or better yet dive back into the forest to go join wherever his pack was.

Something he said caught her attention.

"Wait, what time did you say it was?"

"Eleven'o clock, pricey gem," He answered simply, sounding indifferent to the nickname he'd probably not so randomly chosen to bestow on her.

She wasn't really so shocked by the hour, compared to the early time she'd left and then the extra hour the advisor had packed to what she thought would only be one and then the anticipating long hour and thirty minutes back home--which would soon become dreadful if Quinn chose to walk with her the entire way--would certainly make her late for lunch. REALLY late. But maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. She didn't know how her mother would greet her anyway after the unexpected turn on her behavior, and too be honest she knew that the minute they were forced to see each other again it would end up on nastier, pissed-off responses on both their parts. Not enough time had passed yet for them to feel cooled off, at least not for her. 

To get her mind off her mother Emma decided to regard the stupid nickname he'd given her, just to express her disgust for it more fully. "So that's your nice endearment of the month for me today?"

Quinn snorted. "First of all, I don't think you deserve  _any_ kind of endearment from me or from anybody else for that matter."

Her eyebrows knitted but they were both looking ahead so he didn't notice. "Why so, Quinn?"

It was only her asking the question just to ask though because she knew whatever his answer she would loathe it either way. Good or bad, they were never ever to find a point where she wasn't annoyed by him and he wasn't exasperated by her. It was simply how it was between them and they'd never truly tried to change it to any other way. Frenemies, you could say that's what they were. Not really friends but most definitely not friends, just dangling the line here and there. When she did say 'Endearment of the Month' it did have its meaning despite its meaningless conversations. She hadn't seen in months, four to be precise. Quinn had this habit of randomly disappearing and then popping up on you whenever he felt like it. And apparently, today he felt like it.

"Because you already receive enough of it as it is without needing more people to stupidly blow you up with more."

Emma was confused and slightly taken aback. "Blow me up with what?"

He was quick to answer, almost too eager--she noted. "Endearments, affections, attentions--"

"Wait a minute, Quinn," Emma had to stop walking by the real bitterness that lined each word he said and confused her even further because she'd never truly heard him direct his voice like that to her  _despite_ their love-hate relationship, this sourness was new. He didn't pause and she was forced to continue walking again, rapidly catching up to the suddenly slow steps he was taking. "you can't seriously believe that people spend their time bombarding me with that because if you actually think that then--"

"I'm not wrong, don't try to tell me otherwise. You're a  _princess ,"_ He said the word with such repulsiveness that his nose actually crinkled in distaste and her frown deepened. "you're basically born to be pampered and adored and have everything at your damn beck and call. In short, you're a spoiled brat and believe me I'm not the only one who thinks so."

She visibly flinched at the 'brat' part and then grit her teeth, unsure of where this was coming from. "Why are you saying this, Quinn? Is it payback for calling you a stupid wolf?"

"No," He replied calmly. "simply the truth." and he spit on the ground to the side before scoffing loudly, "And you don't need it from me anyway. I'm sure the King and Queen--"

"Well don't be sure," Emma snapped.

Quinn laughed. "Okay, what would you like me to call you then? Sweetheart? Dove? Honey? Darling? Sugar?"

Her heart skipped at the 'Darling' one, Killian's playful voice too  _there_ in her head but she still stomped on the skip and made her voice threatening to Quinn because now he'd crossed a nerve. "Quinn, if you don't shut up in a minimum of three seconds I will make you regret deciding to walk with me."

He just snorted, "Scary indeed."

Emma shook her head, rolling her eyes for the unbelievable amount of irritation he brought on every time. This thought he had bothered her, though; probably more than everything else he'd deemed to say to her in the past. It irked and she couldn't let it go. "Really, Quinn, what made you...oh."

The realization dawned on her slow, she could be wrong.

"What?"

"You're jealous," She shrugged, intent on using this to make him feel like hell too even if she could possibly be wrong but the brief look that crossed his face gave him away.

"Careful with your words, Princess," He chose to be ominous instead of admitting. "you don't know the kind of trouble that could bring you."

She sighed. If he truly knew how hard friendship and love came for her...

"Quinn, you can't really be jealous."

"Why?" Now he sounded angry, voice going unnaturally low. "Because Ruby's your godmother, and I'm supposed to respect that? or because you're the princess of this cheery place, and I'm supposed to respect that too?"

"That's not even the same thing. Jealousy and respect are two very different things."

"Well," Quinn stated casually, cracking his neck. "In my book I don't give a damn for you enough to ever reach either of those levels."

"You know," Emma grit her teeth. "you're awfully comfortable in this way you've taken up to speaking with me."

He shrugged, "You won't see me for another four months again, so why does it matter? And then after you will become cough, cough, the queen of this pretty kingdom so your casual strolls through the forest won't be possible anymore and..." he smirked. "please do tell how you managed it today because I didn't catch even the whiff of  _one_ guard."

"That's none of your concern, so  _please_ take your curiosity elsewhere."

"Fine." Quinn abruptly stopped walking and Emma was half lost in her thoughts to notice him missing at her side. When she  _did_ notice her mouth hung open for a bit wondering where he'd gone to and then she whirled around, glaring and walking back to where he was patiently standing far too relaxed for her arising frustation to handle.

"Okay, Quinn, tell me the truth. Why are you here?"

He resumed walking but Emma didn't follow this time. He sighed when he realized the game was over but he still didn't step back in her direction or even bother turning around when he answered,

"I told you, back from roaming."

Her brow furrowed, "And your pack is okay with this? You just leaving back and forth in between months and never telling them when you plan on returning? I'm sure by now they must have some idea, but I thought wolf packs were supposed to stay together, or so--"

"There is no pack anymore," Quinn finally admitted with a collected voice while rubbing at his jaw and not looking or sounding as agitated as she thought he would have felt.

"Why?"

He let out a sarcastic laugh, turning around to face her; she caught the bit of sadness that filled his eyes for a second before they became hard again, but they both still stood where they were--neither of them ever the two to go and offer comfort when it came to each other. "THAT is a story not so well suited to be told in the forest."

Emma refrained from telling that was crap and just an excuse for him not to say anything at all--she actually had to hold her tongue back when she felt the words almost slip out in reflex, so used to responding to the insolent side of him that sometimes she forgot he had things that hurt him too, and by the looks of it, this pack revelation was one of them.

 "AND," He pointed his finger at her. "even if I DID find you worthy of telling you, I still wouldn't. One has to keep his secrets, just as I'm sure that you have secrets of your own you wouldn't want me knowing about. We're not close like that and to be frank, we're not friends."

It didn't sting, it only peaked her curiosity and maybe some...maybe some genuine concern too.

She smirked," Alright, so you're what? A lone wolf now?"

"Your attempt at a joke just isn't funny."

The smirked faded away and she took a step toward him, "Do you want me to talk to Ruby?"

"No," He looked her dead in the eye when she said it. "I chose to leave. She stopped being my leader a long time ago, I don't answer to her."

"You still see her in town though."

"Well that's all there is."

"And you still come to town."

She noticed her question hadn't been answered yet.

"I'm happy to tell you that frequency will end after today."

And there was her answer.

Emma wasted no time now, knowing why he was really here and decided to just be out with it since he gave no sign of being sentimental with this. Only indifferent. Always indifferent. "You came to say goodbye."

As expected Quinn ignored her and gestured toward the rest of the path she still needed to walk. "Do you want a ride back to the palace?"

She smiled. "No. I don't think the guards will react too nicely if they see me riding on top of a wolf's back at full speed ahead. But thank you."

Of course he ignored that too. He seemed to go deep in thought before he suddenly turned and crossed the distance between them in less time than she could blink. She felt the whoosh of air first before he appeared right in front of her face and grabbed a firm hold of her shoulders with his hands. The kiss was so quick that she didn't even have time to close her eyes or startle back from the weird feel of his lips on her skin. It was just a peck on the forehead, almost nothing at all with how fast he did it. When he pulled back his eyes were swirling intensively golden and she didn't hesitate to sidestep away from him. Once upon a time those eyes had scared the hell out of her but now she was used to it. And perhaps that's what she would miss the most with his departure.

She could see that he was seconds from letting himself transform but he held back, silently waiting for her.

Her whisper was just as soft as her sad smile. "Bye, Quinn."

And with that, he took a running start and then leaped into the air, dark clothing disappearing before her eyes as it was overrun by the thick dark pecan fur, growl erupting from the back of his throat as his human limbs and bones stretched and readjusted to take on the wolf's, and then he landed back on the ground with a huff and shake of his head before he turned in the direction of the trees and sped into it, gone in a flash.

"Be careful, Quinn."

The howl that sounded after told her he had heard her perfectly.

 

* * *

 

It had to be about one-thirty or barely two by the time she arrived back at the palace. Lunch had obviously passed by now so she didn't bother going around to see if she could find her mother and apologize for not making it. Honestly it was late, she'd been gone half the day. Besides, there was really no way for her to keep track of time while she was in town so that could be her excuse. She wouldn't lie to herself though. Quinn's unexpected goodbye had caused her steps to falter and slowed down her strides. It wasn't that she would terribly miss him. Of course there would be some longing and wondering about his whereabouts, but the 'terribly miss you' just didn't exist between them. And she knew he thought the same thing too, it wasn't just her trying to be brave about his leaving. Mostly she'd been shocked. In the past year of him sneaking up on her she had to admit that it had never crossed her mind he would go for good one day. She would forget about him for a while in the months that he was absent and then he would come back, each time with a new little remark to deliver her way. They hated each other's guts and they damn well told each other every time they had the bad fortune to meet. Ironic since...he cared enough about her to give her a kiss on the forehead and  _she'd_ cared enough about him to wish him safety. So it was a weird  _whatever_ they had, not friends but not enemies. Funny because he never missed the opportunity to let her know how much he despised her, and she never missed the opportunity to show him how much she despised him as equally. A part of her felt regrettable that she didn't even know anything about him and wasn't even aware of his reasons for leaving--except that also couldn't be partly her fault because he never tried to be open with her in the short time they were together. Emma also hadn't tried. They were both closed off people and now any chance they had to be different about that was lost to the dust. Quinn was filled with hate. It reflected in the way he spoke, the way he moved, the way he saw, but there had been little cracks in his hard exterior--like the kiss on the forehead--that she could have used to get to know him and possibly even help him instead of letting him walk away in his isolation. There would only be thinking about what she could have done from here on out because he could kingdoms away from her in a matter of days and all her could have been's had to be put to rest. 

And also all her questions. 

Questions like if her godmother knew about this, where would he go, how long had he been without a pack?.

Quinn was a lot of things. A lot of  _negative_ things. But liar wasn't one of them.

He could take care of himself, Emma knew this well. With the hard exterior came the hard, strong wolf but worry still liked to seize her. She also knew that if she had to say goodbye then it was goodbye. A real goodbye. Meaning years would pass and she still wouldn't see him. He was four years older than her and had every right to leave--or more like escape whatever was biting at him. But she wished she'd been prepared. At the very least so that all there was between them wasn't just nasty comments and sarcastic replies.

"Hello, Emma."

She stopped short at the voice and looked up, all distracting thoughts instantly dying when her eyes lit up and she ran to throw herself into his waiting arms.

"Dad!"

He chuckled at the childish jump she did to land and crash hard against him, almost toppling them both over in her excitement from where he had been standing at her closed bedroom door. He caught her with only slight trouble--the years adding up to how much he could manage now--and a small grunt as the momentum knocked the air out of him for a second but then easily encased his arms around her to hold her upright and brought a hand up to cradle her head. Tears prickled at Emma's eyes from where her cheek rested sideways on his shoulder and she tightened her arms around him more, happy to have him back. David must have sensed something was wrong because he gave her a small squeeze and gently patted her back, allowing her to stay in the embrace for as much as she wanted until she was the one to pull away first to wipe away the few tears that had begun sliding down.

"Wait, wait," Emma shook her head, blinking confused and taking the opportunity to sniff back and clear her throat before she continued on, "when did you get back?"

"About two hours ago. I was  _hoping,"_ He emphasized, "to make it back in time to have lunch with you and your mother but it ended up being with just her since you went to town."

Emma internally cringed; no doubt her mother had already spilled everything to him during that hour, from their argument in the morning to her magical mishap with Killian yesterday in the afternoon.

"It's alright," He assured her with a smile when he saw hers fall slightly. "but now I do intend to spend the time with my beautiful daughter, so shall we go?"

She rolled her eyes at her father's compliment but beamed at the idea of spending time with him and nodded, slipping her hand through the crook of his elbow so they could walk arm in arm, but before he began leading her out of the hallway she turned to him and asked, "How did you know I was back? You were waiting at my..."

"Door?" David finished for her and  she nodded again, only this time it was with curiosity and the smallest bit of suspicion because she couldn't overlook the fact that his face was all calm and delighted to see her and he was vibrating an easy going feeling that was helping  _her_ lose some of the tension from everything. So either he wasn't fully informed of her actions yet or was getting really good at lying to mask that he already knew. "Yeah, the guards saw you coming down the path and told me, so I figured I'd wait for you here and then we could go to the garden and hang there for a while, you know, just you and me today."

"You're serious?" It came out of her mouth before she could really think it through and she sent him an apologetic smile straight after to compensate for the way her eyes had widened and surprise had colored her voice at his words.

Her father sighed quietly, features descending in regret and sudden shame. "I know we haven't spent much time together this summer, Emma, but it's not because I didn't want to. My duties as King have just picked up lately and...no, that's a really bad excuse, I'm sorry. I should have made time for you, despite all that because now you're going back to school,"

"Final year," Emma muttered.

"Yes, your final year," David proceeded on unaware. "but you do know I hate being apart from you and your mother. Specially these long days of business travel with other kingdoms. Honestly I didn't expect for this one with Corona to extend to almost a week like it did, but now I say that some father and daughter bonding time is well overdue."

"Okay," Emma agreed with a little more skip in her step as they reached the stairwell and began going down.

With her other hand on the railing she carefully guided their way slowly to the bottom, using the comfortable silence that settled between them to analyze him but he wasn't showing any disappointment or worry in regard to her or anything her mother must have said, so she let it be for now. She didn't want to ruin the moment by bringing it up, but knowing it would come up sooner rather than later with Killian in full out recovery in his room just a few feet away. If he knew then he would bring it up at some point and if not then...maybe she would, but just not right now. She wanted to enjoy having him back home before the reality of everything she'd brought up came out to be spoken of. Her father was clearly exhausted though and the yawn that escaped him as they turned a corner suggested they maybe had an hour to spend time together before he became more tired and she became guilty enough to tell him he should go rest.

And her stomach growl that came then also reminded her that she hadn't eaten all day.

David chuckled, having heard the hunger cry too. "Well you did miss lunch, and I'm assuming you didn't get anything from town either."

"Yep."

"Then it's a good thing I told the servants to bring out some of the lunch food here too."

"You're the best!" Emma grinned when she saw the small wooden table waiting for them at the center of the garden, just past her favored flowers, along which two crates were on either side of the table for them to sit on and eat the aliments on top, two of everything spread over the surface for as far as they could on the large napkin without falling off the edge; as if sensing how close it was to the food, her stomach growled again, louder and more impatient as they got nearer and then finally sat down.

"Don't suppose you think that of your mother?" He raised a knowing eyebrow and she sighed, holding back from reaching for the food despite how much protests she got, but obviously this was going to be spoken of now rather than later.

"So she told you all of it," She alleged numbly but he just smiled tiredly and took a bite from one of the sliced beer bread he'd picked up.

"She did."

"And?" She waiting for him to say something about it give her a lecture, fully actknowledge it, but he just continued eating calmly and that left her confused.

"And," He took a second to swallow. "that all happened while I was gone so really I'm not completely informed in details but I know it was an accident, Emma. You don't have to worry about me being mad with you about that, I'm sure your mother wasn't. I already went to see Killian and Liam to let them know I'm back and to apologize--even though this wasn't my fault or  _your_ fault or anyone's fault. It happened and you couldn't stop it. But that doesn't mean I don't understand the gravity of the situation. And as for your argument with your mother well...well I think that's something you and her need to fix, I'm not picking a side."

"Right, so you agree with this?" Emma revealed the black cuff on her wrist and held it up for him to see.

"Didn't she give you a free will on that?" He questioned but it didn't matter because Snow had spoken to him first and she didn't know how to bounce that back.

"She doesn't trust me. She said to think about the kingdom and the people's safety, and you know she would have found a way to put it on me even if I hadn't just taken it and put it on myself to save her and Blue the trouble of forcing it on."

David shook his head. "You know very well she never would have forced that on you, Emma."

"So you do agree with her." She stated bluntly; she wasn't going to be able to convince him now, it was already a set upon discussion and there was no other way when his head was informed by someone's thoughts prior to her.

"No, I just returned. I'm going to let you and Snow work this out."

"But dad..." Emma started but he cut her off with a flourish and shake of his head.

Her father looked up," Let's just enjoy this time right now, okay?"

She remained silent for a few minutes, watching him pick up another slice of bread before she exhaled softly and nodded, "Okay."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if many remember Quinn since he only appeared in that one episode, but *cough *cough he will play a bigger role later *cough   
> However I did want to give him his own background cause I wished they had revealed some sort of background of his life in the actual show, so this is my version on him based on his attitude/behavior in 'Child of the Moon'


	11. A Blind Reason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now this one is a quite a long one, I'll admit. For this chapter and the next, it will be split into days to make one whole week that passes and there will be a lot of vulnerable Emma moments simply because for the next chapters to come (that i still haven't written yet...) she will slowly, slooooowly start to become the fighter Emma that we all know and love. Bet you didn't expect it to be this much of a slow burn...lol  
> And...any everlark fans out there? cause if there are some reading this chapter then this one is for you! (It'll make more sense when you get to the end of it)  
> Enjoy this monster!

Chapter 11: A Blind Reason

**WEDNESDAY**

She hoped it wouldn't become a habit. Technically it was the morning already and considered a brand new day but the sun seemed to be taking longer to awake than she had. Without asking for the time she guessed it to be around four or five. Maybe five. Probably five. The second that estimation crossed her mind Emma groaned and dropped her head back onto the pillow--a little too hard for her drowsy liking--after having gotten a glance at the window and seen the navy blue sky slowly transferring into the usual light blue of a summer day, the crescent moon faded somewhere behind the puffy white clouds in the distance as they progressed in the same slow motion that the birds began to stir. It was a soothing sight, really. If her body wasn't still pulling for another few hours then maybe she would have gotten enthralled and ended up staring at the rising view. Sunsets were the best parts of it, in her opinion. She could only imagine just how beautiful witnessing it over the horizon could be. There was something about it. Something about seeing the first rays before anybody else, or having that yellow blinding light be all your eyes saw was what strangely made it worthwhile to wake up early in the morning just to be able to see it. It definitely wasn't everyday her brain woke her up before that splendor, and whenever it did she was grateful. But today the conversation she'd had with her father the day before spilled back in and reminded her how her mother hadn't attended dinner. Emma was no fool. It didn't take a genius to figure out why her mother had avoided dinner with the excuse that she wasn't feeling well. Honestly she had considered laying out that same excuse too.

It was only her father's return home that made her file that excuse away and just assist to dinner anyway for the sake of more time with him despite the obvious tension between her and Snow. In the end she'd been left a little annoyed and hurt for the fact that NEITHER of her parents attended, one of the guards informing her that His Majesty was feeling tired from his long trip and had retired early to his room. A part of her understood, but the other part couldn't help feeling like he'd chosen her mother over her. It was just a susceptible moment that she fell into for a minute, but the hurt had probably been written all over her face when she stood up from the empty table and declared herself tired too. She'd even briefly wished that Killian and Liam could have been there, if only to not be alone with so much food and so many available seats that no one ever filled. The solitude had hit her hard then. But now closing her eyes, she wanted to skip breakfast too. Just the thought of seeing her mother made her uncomfortable. Words had been said. Words had been yelled. And mother and daughter were both too stubborn to admit wrong. At least for Emma's side, she wouldn't admit wrong. For being disrespectful, yes she could apologize. But for finally speaking the truth? no. It was a plain and simple no.

"Ughhh," The grumble was half swallowed up in her pillow and she lifted her head up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed to force herself to sit upright; it wasn't really that forceful, she was already wide awake and unable to go back to sleep with all those swimming thoughts making her too peeved to resume whatever blank dream.

Emma rubbed her eyes--nope, bad idea, only irritated her pupils--and stretched for a few minutes until she just sighed and dropped back onto the bed with her hands clasped together at her stomach, wondering what to do now. She just stared the ceiling for a while, not very much content with how eerily silent it was except for the slow coming in and out of her breathing as her chest rose and fell along.

The town was quiet. Outside, past her door, and into the hallway, it was also quiet. Without checking she knew there was no guard patrolling or even standing by, their boots always gave them away.  Some of them, at least, because Graham had a gift for soundless walking. When they were younger he used to sneak up on her and she'd scream in surprise every time she turned to him with wide eyes and found him doubled over in laughter, earning himself a scowl from his victim. Of course his way of sneaking up on her had become more subtle and respectable according to his position, but they were still just as silent. Over the years she'd come to closely be able to tell whenever it was him if she listened hard enough, but that soon tired her quickly when it proved to take up too much concentration. For now she didn't hear him, and she hoped it would stay that way as she sat up again but this time actually got out of bed and went to sit in front of her mirror.

Running her fingers through the natural loose waves, she decided to keep it that way and then stood up, having caught the white poncho behind her in the glass lying in a crumpled heap on the floor a few feet away, she scooped it up and dusted it off before slipping it over her head and turning back to her reflection. The small smile that came helped the muscles in her face soften to something a little less tiring and worn, but the recently acquired dark circles under her eyes were unhidden. The poncho was really better suited for autumn or winter, but it was actually a bit drafty with the sun still not up yet and it was easier to just throw this on than to choose a whole change of outfit for the quick run she was about to do to the kitchen.

Mornings had gotten weird like that, she noted. Misthaven was sort of known for the precise way the seasons tended to set in, but right now it had gotten shaky. One never really wondered how long the winter would extend or how much the spring time would take up, there was always some accurate number of months that everyone had come to rely on. It balanced them in a way, allowing them to mark specific dates and plans and finer preparations for trips and those whose lives depended on agriculture. Although it wasn't a drastic change, it was funny how she'd only come to notice it now. Possibly others hadn't. But it was really only in the stillness that you came to notice the little things, and she had to appreciate that. How different and new the world could seem when you were the only one awake.

She passed a few guards on her way. Each one gave her a level greeting of 'Good morning, Your Highness' which she actknowledged with a nod in her speedy walk. Hurrying on down another stretching hallway she followed it all the way to the kitchen's double wooden doors and pushed them open with an ease. They swung open like a bird elegantly revealing out its wings and then instantly closed shut behind her once she was inside. The noise soon took over her ears and the quietness of the palace was left behind those wooden doors when she took in the bustle going about the place, and the loud clinking and pinging of both large and small metal pots that various women and men were attending to, stirring and rapidly mixing in ingredients while the sound of chopping came from one area and the scrubbing of numerous dirty dishes piled high like a mountain came from another side. Some girls were sweeping the ever faded brown tiles and others were helping by setting out the finished dishes on the tall middle table shaped like a rectangle, carefully bringing them over to the surface in their still fuming hot state. She was practically splashed by the white color of the aprons and light brown, beige, and gray of their clothing as they skittered past each other, trying hard not to bump or trip, and so immersed in their duties that they didn't even notice her standing there. The delicious smell that intensely wafted in the air assaulted her nose pleasurably and wonderfully. Instead of continuing to watch them and risk accidentally distracting them with her presence she weaved her way through to where she spotted Joana.

Emma had to raise her voice to be heard above it all and she thought for a second that her 'Hi Joana!' hadn't been loud enough and was about to go again when the old woman turned around and a smile broke over her face at the sight of her.

Joana struggled to get the words out above the noise too but Emma was able to make out the 'What are you doing here?' in between and opened her mouth to respond when Joana decisively shook her head and led her to a small compartment Emma had no idea was even there since it was secluded deeper in and hidden by the hanging pots and kitchen utensils on the wall, along with a fat empty barrel sitting in the very center of the door that Joana waved her through.

There was no one inside. It was a fairly simpler room than the main one with just one fancy marble counter in the middle while everything else was either cracked or peeled off, from the tiles on the floor to the wallpaper on the four walls, and looking completely tattered and forgotten. The noise was also weirdly blocked out as if it was a soundproof room despite its fragile state, and Emma had to admire that as she pulled out one of the black stools and sat down.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure, dear?"

Emma felt her cheeks heat up when she sheepishly admitted, "I actually just wanted a cup of tea, I didn't realize it was going to be so hectic out there."

Joana chuckled, patting her hand. "It's alright. Really it's not usually like this, just the morning, and then it becomes less crazy when we're preparing for lunch. Right now it's just the beginning of the day but then it stops being so stressful-looking after breakfast."

She bit her lip and nodded. "Yeah it was just a bit surprising."

Joana smiled and said, "I'll go make your tea." and then stood up from her seat across from her and made to leave when Emma blurted out, 

"Actually make that two!"

She turned around for confirmation, hand already at the knob to open the door. "Two cups of tea, you want?"

"Yes," Emma quickly nodded her agreement, honestly trying not to think too much about  _why_ she wanted two.

"Okay then, just wait here. I'll go brew them and then bring them back to you, should only take a couple minutes."

"Thank you, Joana."

The noise briefly slipped into the room and was once again blocked out when she closed the door shut behind her. She just sat there for a while, nervously fiddling with her fingers. Of course she didn't  _have_ to do what her heart and mind had come up with. It was a small flash of impulse that had made her mouth blurt out what it had, but now that it had been released into the air she was seriously considering just taking the two cups of tea for herself. Perhaps it was a bit selfish how she wanted to pose the cup of tea as an excuse to see him again, like with the apology. The apology though, that was expected and she knew she would have done it anyway whether or not given a choice. For herself and for her own conscious that was partly why. But how would this look?.

"Here you go, sweetie."

A metal tray with two steaming cups of tea was placed in front of her, and Emma stood up. She gingerly lifted up the tray from the counter-top and adjusted her hold on its sides to be able to walk out without any complication. The older woman was already at the door and keeping it open with her foot, a soft smile on her face when she stopped at the threshold and said,

"Thanks again."

"You're welcome, dear. Oh but are you sure you don't want help? I could take it up for you, if you'd like."

She laughed good naturedly. "It's just tea, Joana, I think I can manage."

"You remind me so much of Snow at your age. She was always so insistent of being strong and independent, even for the little things. A rebel at heart, if you ask me," Joana waved her hand in the direction of the servants and cooks still skittering about. "off you go, my princess."

Despite the momentary startle her mother being brought up had caused her nerves she still managed to give her an unstrained smile that cut very close to genuine and then threw herself into the crowd. At least ten to fifteen minutes had passed so everyone had noticed  she was there. It made her navigation easier when they cleared a path for her and she thanked them by swiftly going through it, returning their smiles and 'Good morning's. 

She blamed her feet to where they led her. Even as she put all of her concentration into just carrying the tray and made sure to repeat the word ' _room'_ in her mind as she did so, her feet had different plans and apparently her heart did too because soon she was standing in the front of his door. She hesitated the same way she had yesterday. It was edging to the same time she had come too and made her feel like she was being mocked like '  _hey! we knew you couldn't stay away for long!_ '. Emma was definitely questioning her actions now but the reason not to go in that she was desperately hoping would arise, didn't. Nothing stood in the way except the door and...possibly Liam, but she doubted he was even awake at the moment. Or...the more awkward scenario, where she would walk in expecting only Killian but finding Liam there too. She would appear concerned to him. That wasn't really a bad thing, but Liam already seemed to have a low opinion of her and she didn't think he would exactly appreciate her concerns. Well, what  _appeared_ to be concern, she truly didn't know what it was, but bringing a nice warm cup of chamomile to an injured person in the early morning did give off that vibe. It was kind of embarrassing how much she was overthinking this, but the sound of a guard's footsteps coming her way is what helped her make the decision by frantically twisting the knob and practically dropping the tray in her haste of getting in. 

When she saw him, her heart swirled a little at the sight.

Emma was taken aback; this reaction from her beating organ she hadn't expected and she had to lean against the door for support when her eyes refused to look anywhere else but the sleeping boy a few feet away. 

Those five minutes that passed she couldn't bring herself to feel ashamed for continuing to stare. The walls around her heart fell effortlessly to the floor and for once she didn't allow any thoughts of needing to put distance to ruin the moment when it was just her aware.  _This_ was safe. Later she would curse herself for being so weak, but for now he was oblivious and that's what kept her there. It was a dangerous situation. He could pop one eye open and catch her standing there; it wouldn't take him long to figure out what she was doing. It was almost like the first time she had seen him. At the ball. And somehow that thought scared her more because sparks had undoubtedly given her away and those same sparks weren't really that far now. She knew they were  _there,_ the cuff the only barrier. And that was what made her push off the door, the isolation and disgust the restrain on her wrist did in reminding her why she'd gone for a cup of tea in the first place. To soothe the attacking truth of all that was blatantly wrong between her and her mother.

Upon being closer, it was even more sweet, seeing him in such a peaceful state, but she forced herself to stop lingering and shook her head against it, which resulted in setting down the tray on his nightstand a little too hard than was necessary. She winced even though no liquid spilled out and the metal didn't rattle as loud as it could have. The surge of anger that suddenly came and the sharp exhale she did in trying to tame it momentarily distracted her enough that when he stirred and she heard her name fall tiredly from his lips, she jumped back and shot him a glare out of pure reflex than surprise.

"Emma." He said again, sounding a little bit more awake and her mind raced for something to say as she tried to compose herself and come up with a good explanation that could save her dignity. Her emotions were a mess at this point and that always called for some time alone so she wouldn't end up accidentally admitting something that could come back to bite her later. But since leaving now would appear rude she did her best to remove the glare from her face and just try to relax her features so at least she could resemble something close to  _Hi! no, I did not just spend the last few minutes staring at you and wishing I could snap these butterflies in two._

"Hello, Emma." The smile he gave her threw her off a bit but she was still able to normally respond,

"Yeah, good morning, Killian, how are you feeling?"

_Nice and simple, Emma, not so rushed, he's gonna tell you want to bolt._ Her feet were already pointing in the direction of the door, she didn't want to give anymore away.

"Stiff," was his reply as he raised his head from the pillow and dug his elbows into the mattress to give him the strength he needed to push himself upwards into a sitting position. The wince he tried to play off made her quickly lean forward and gently press her hands down on his chest to slowly lay him back down without causing any pain or effort on his part. She heard the sharp intake of breath when her soft hands made contact with his skin but chose to ignore it and the butterflies that had woken up again. She avoided his eyes, feeling how they watched her intently, and awkwardly removed her hands to clasp them firmly in front of her, both for herself and her itching fingers that had begun gliding through the smooth dark hair there before freezing.

Emma cleared her throat, still clearly avoiding his gaze but not ready to look at him yet. "No, you can just stay like that, you don't have to sit up. It's fine, Killian, I just...brought some tea."

"And I appreciate it, sweetheart, but...one can't very well drink hot liquid while they are lying down, right?"

_Damn it's true,_ She sighed. "So do you want me to help you sit up?"

"If you please."

She had no idea how to do it, but when she slid herself neatly onto the bed, it felt so familiar to slip her hands under his back and loop her arms around his waist to then bring him slowly up with her. Her lips lightly grazed his sleeve-covered shoulder, grateful for the hair that went to conceal her face in the process. If she wanted to she would have leaned her forehead against it but she refrained. Instead she felt his tentative breathing come at her ear, so close that all the hot air he was expelling went straight to her neck and made her eyes flutter close in sudden drowsiness. It was silent and she felt content, reminded of her dream and hoping he wouldn't run his nose along her hair because then she would really feel threatened to grab him and accept his touch. When she had him lifted up enough she pushed the pillows back against the headboard and then slightly pulled away, wondering how she was going to get him there all the way without any more winces, but he saved her the answer in question when he just dragged himself away from her arms and used his palms to give him the little boost to take him backward and then settle back against the pillows with a tired sigh.

She straightened up and reached for one of the cups, mindful of how infernally hot it still was and attempting to lower it a few degrees by blowing on it for a good minute before handing it to him. He took it with a quiet 'Thank you, Emma' and had a small sip. She watched the steam continue flowing up before taking a small sip of her own and savoring the sweet taste on her tongue, immediately going for another. 

"Emma."

"Hmmm?" She took a larger sip this time and nodded distractedly, eyes glancing at the black cuff on her wrist and unable to stop the derail of thoughts that came flooding next in between more sips. 

_This was a mistake._

She had told herself she was going to put distance. Finally some distance. Where was that distance?

_You need to go, why did you even come?_

Why did she even come?. It was gnawing at her and she was clawing her way through to find a reason why--a reason  _she_ would like, that  _she_ could approve, a reason that didn't scare her.

_Maybe you miss him, Emma, maybe that's what it is._

She scoffed lightly.  _That can't be possible, you barely know him._

_Or maybe the buffoon was right and you do enjoy his presence?_

_No._

_No, what does that even mean?_

_You're thinking too much of this, it's just tea, it's fine._

_Maybe you wanted to see him, but that's okay, that's not bad._

_Is it not?_

_Or maybe...STOP. Don't, Emma. Don't awaken fear with this._

She took a trembling sip.

_He awakened it last time._

_But you have the stupid cuff on, it can't burst out anymore._

_That's the problem._

The hand on her lap was beginning to shake as the other hand brought the cup up to her lips again but only managed to brush the rim.

_That's the problem._

"Emma," He calmly said again.

"What?" She snapped and a quick study of his face told her he knew something was off. She sighed and prepared for him to ask what the hell was wrong with her, but he didn't.

Instead he arched an eyebrow, "What's your favorite color?"

It was such a random question that she laughed. And then she realized why he'd suddenly changed the topic and wanted to take him by the shoulders and shake him senseless, demanding that he stop reading her so well because it was starting to freak her out. Freak her out in the way that she considered dangerous. And scary. And good. But between her laugh and his grin the only word she was able to get out was an incredulous, "Really?"

"Really."

She smoothly evaded, "Wouldn't you like to know..."

"Perhaps I would." He whispered.

 

**THURSDAY.**

The night had been a restless one. It hadn't even consisted of twists and turns to at least get her through. The hours had stretched long and far, minutes taking forever to change in their digits. She'd spent the better part of the dark staring up at the ceiling and hoping her eyes would eventually get tired on their own. They didn't. In fact they seemed to grow more alert with every breath and she'd finally just groaned in frustation and turned to face the window instead. The moon had been bright and glowing in its stellar white, and she probably could have called it beautiful but at the time all she felt was mocked by its smile, surrounded by all those stars and reflecting the complete opposite of how she currently was. At some point she'd untied Graham's shoelace from her ankle and placed it on her free wrist, laying back down and playing with it in front of her face, again uselessly hoping the blurriness of having it so close to her vision could guide her to sleep and a much needed blank. It did nothing of the sort. The only thing it accomplished was pissing her off and annoyingly rub at her eyes, furiously whispering ' _How the hell are you not tired?! Get tired! Get tired for God's sakes! GEEET TIREEED, Why, why, WHY!' ._ That led her to pacing the floor in exasperation. Her mind thought of everything and nothing. Somewhere in between, she considered leaving the palace and going out to wander the fields, if only to escape her room for a while. It was a cell of her own making. She could admit that she was a tad-bit dramatic on the prisoner part, but in a way it was like that. In many ways it was like that.

The real irritation wasn't that though. Soon it became apparent what was bothering her. At first she hadn't noticed it, it wasn't as intense. Blue hadn't expressed the symptoms that came along with the cuff, frankly she hadn't mentioned anything. Emma knew that was on purpose. Blue had spent years wielding magic and for someone to think she wouldn't  _know_ about this terrible itch, well then...that someone was a fool. 

 For a moment she stopped and wondered about her mother. If Blue had made her aware of this and Snow had STILL agreed then...she quickly dismissed the thought before it could have a chance to stew. It lingered anyway, but she already had a lot stacked against her mother to add more to the mix. The itch was a maddening sensation, and with the key lost in the dark and everyone ordered to not remove the cuff she felt herself truly going crazy and so desperate she began to cry in a curled up position on the floor.

It was around four A.M when she finally forced herself to stand up, earlier than when she'd woken up yesterday. In the mirror she was another girl. Nowhere near a princess. The Emma before her had bloodshot eyes, mussed up hair from constantly running her hands through it in an attempt to hold on to her sanity, and her coloring seemed an ugly sallow, the muscles on her face sunken and tired. Maybe it was a bit vain, but Emma had always thought of herself as beautiful. Pretty, at least. But staring at her reflection all she saw was all the words that defined ugly in the dictionary.  _Hideous,_ She thought.

Once again her feet led the way, so once again she was at his door. Balancing a tray with two cups of the same chamomile she turned the knob as quietly as she could and then slipped inside, not really thinking about what she was doing until she was already past the threshold and finally her foggy brain decided to catch up to her. 

"Oh." Emma stopped short. "You're awake."

Killian turned his head at the sound of her voice and smiled when he saw her, "Aye."

The corners of her lips were heavy when she tried to pull them up into a small smile, but it felt more like a painful grimace and she just opted for walking towards the nightstand. His eyes raked over her face as she set the tray down but she was too tired to put him off. Instead she blew out a small puff of air because yes, she looked sick, and yes, she was blotchy, and she'd just sort of tried to fix up her appearance. Her cheeks heated up under his gaze, but it was out of embarrassment than anything remotely adorable. She closed her eyes because she was a mess and she'd come here without thinking.  _Don't cry, Emma._ She wouldn't. At least that was spent. But still she feared if she opened her eyes she would see concern in his and that would make her crumble. 

"It is normal. To let it out, I mean. You don't have to fight it so hard, darling."

He hadn't put a comforting hand on her arm or even reached out a finger, but it felt like he'd touched her anyway. 

She opened her eyes and scoffed, "Do you always do that?" and she plopped herself on the bed, beginning to seethe with her back to him, "do you always...always...do you always..."

"Do I always what?"

" _That!"_ She waved her hands wildly in front of her in a burst of frustation, unwilling to look at him and not having any other way to show him.

"Uh...you're referring to my...what?" He  broke out in confusion, voice completely perplexed. "what are you referring to? "

"Nothing," She sighed and shook her head, turning to look at him. "It was a bad night, that's all. I don't need to tell you any more than that."

"I didn't say that so you could tell me," He clarified in a serious tone. "I said it to help alleviate YOURSELF. It's in your choice to share, I've got no business in it unless you say differently. And by the looks of it, there are some burdens that would do you good in talking about."

"Well, who do I tell them to?" She snapped. "I don't know if you've noticed, but a princess doesn't exactly get many friends."

"Your family. Queen Snow and King--"

"Yeah, Killian, they are sort of..." Emma looked down at her hands sitting palms up on her lap; if her magic had been present they would have been shaking in her agitated form, but all she felt was the itch and the smallest tingle that indicated the previous. "The Queen and I haven't been on the best terms lately, and the King, well...let's just say if you love someone you usually side with them. My father loves my mother, that's obvious enough with true love's kiss."

"You're his daughter. He loves you too," He reminded her.

Emma smiled a little at that but it didn't last. She sniffed, "No, I know, but what I mean is...they're kind of the people I'm having problems with. I can't talk to them about this. Not when my mother and I are avoiding each other and my father won't tell her she's wrong and won't tell me I'm wrong. Belle isn't here, and I have no siblings." she continued on glumly, "a big, open place, but really--"

"No."

She raised an eyebrow.

Killian swallowed, eyes downcast. "Your palace can be compared to the ship Liam and I were forced to work on. It was spacious and large, your guards could be the crew and the crew could be your guards. All those numbers of people and you still can't find anyone to sit down and listen. Surrounded by bodies, day by day, but they're just there for their duties and nothing more." he shrugged. "Of course I had Liam. But I think you just naturedly crave that different kind of friendship. The one where the friend can also feel like family just as much as the brother does."

It hurt her to ask, but she did. "My home reminds you of that?''

_My home reminds you of your time as a servant?_

He smiled sadly. "Only on some dark nights."

"I'm sorry," She told him honestly. She felt obliged to do so, considering he was admitting it in that reading between the lines way.

"Don't be," Killian shook his head. "The situations are only a bit similar. Yours can be remedied."

She knew what he meant, or at least thought she did. Either way she looked down and closed her eyes, the stubbornness strongly evident even to her ears. "You mean, by talking to your mother?"

"Or allowing yourself to be heard."

_To be vulnerable._

"That's not easy."

"Things like that never are, sweetheart."

She turned her head just to smirk at him. "How many girls have you called like that?"

"A million and one, if you can believe it."

She snorted, "And I bet a million  _and_ one all swooned."

His nose wrinkled adorably, "Why would they?"

Emma rolled her eyes, "Oh my god, Killian, you are not going to play that card."

"On the contrary, I think you liked it,  _Emma."_

"I think you're taking too much advantage of your injuries."

"How is that?"

"Well for one, I can't pour the tea on you."

"That would be a bloody waste!" He chided and she grinned.

"But that's why there's two cups!"

"Aren't you so thoughtful..." He muttered.

She chuckled. "Oh, I am. So much so that I'm going to put a stop to this conversation and let you drink the tea before it gets anymore cold."

"Ah yes, the lass finally lets me hydrate," He quipped. "How kind indeed."

Emma handed him his cup with a pointed look  _'Do you really want to test that?'_   and then sat back down on the edge with her cup, smile getting covered up by a yawn that followed.

"You could still get some sleep before breakfast if you left now."

As she took the half-warm sip she thought about how easy they fell back to serious.

"No," Emma decided after two other yawns. "This is fine."

 

**FRIDAY**

He looked particularly tired when she walked in.

She carried no metal tray with two cups of tea this time. It was even earlier than all the other days she'd come visit. Around three A.M. Each day the sleep seemed to come less. She'd only gotten a few lucky hours of rest and he was still entitled to have his so she didn't blame him for barely able to keep his eyes open when he saw her and she took her spot on his bed. His smile was a weary one when she sat down and his 'Good morning' was quiet, all the fatigue dripping onto those two words and making her feel guilty for coming in like this. She couldn't seem to help it though. The small detour to the library hadn't derailed in the least because her feet had led her right to his door again. Originally she'd woken up defeated and decided to not go to him today because, despite it only being two days in a row, she was afraid this would become a habit. It already felt like a habit. It was just an hour or so that she kept her stay, before Liam or anyone could have the chance to walk in and wonder what business the princess could have with the injured boy in order for her to visit so often. Emma honestly didn't know what business it was, every time they sat in companionable silence she tried to come up with an excuse. Her mind was a blank. She was simply there. Just there. It was just aimless, the only way to describe it, with nothing behind it and no purpose whatsoever. During the remainder of the day--after she left--Emma's heart braved to scream comfort. And she didn't want to believe that, mostly because she was scared that word could be true and she in no way ready to admit that out loud yet.

She wanted to NOT be ready. Not now. Not soon. Not ever.

Looking down at him, it washed over her how beaten he was. With the sky midly dark and the moon's light scarce from her eye-point of view, it emitted a haunting feeling into the air around them and the outside. In this moment the space felt like too much between them and she wanted to gently touch those bruises and diminish them from his face to reveal the more handsome man underneath, numb the pain and dull the coloring of pale green that was currently displayed on his marks to his natural hue with the caress of her thumb over his delicate skin.

"It's not your fault." His whisper broke her out of her trance. 

"What?" She stared at the bruises on his hands, somehow even crueler in the dark.

"I see what you're doing. Do not torture yourself like that."

Emma didn't respond.

"Emma..." He took a deep breath, as if preparing himself for a long speech when he caught sight of the paperweight she held in her hands. He nodded towards it. "You brought a book?"

She smiled and admitted without thinking, "Yeah, it's one of my favorites."

The silence hung in the air for a minute as she just touched the cover fondly and he just watched her with drooping eyelids. Then he whispered,

"Read it to me?"

Her answer was her opening the book and beginning to quietly read the first page. 

Around page 10 she noticed that she had slowly drifted over to the headboard in the middle of her reading and was now leaning against it, head on the wood, legs stretched out in front of her, and the book resting on her lap held up by her hands. His eyes had now entirely closed, giving into his fatigue, and the light snoring of his sleep was the only sound currently in the room. His head was tipped gently to the side on his pillow, almost touching her arm, and she was surprised by how much she longed to fill the space and just rake her fingers through his hair. Like this, he seemed so young and content. It was so much the serene state that he had slipped into that she could almost overlook the scars and tortured marks that outlined his face everyday. They were even more enhanced with the shifting light outside, but like this she could see the semblance of the boy that was there hidden and calmly sleeping too. She wondered if she looked just as peaceful when she slept but she knew the answer to that, every twist and turn was an indication and it never failed to come when her head hit the pillow. There was something beautiful about watching a person sleep and see the years and pain fall away. Her sleep couldn't be the same though and she realized how incredibly hard it had become to dream. When had that happened?. When had the light become her fear?

Emma was lost. 

" _I stare in the mirror as I try to remember who I am and who I am not,"_ She read to no one but herself.

She was in pieces.

The next quote she knew by heart and her eyes fell on him,

_I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now, and live in it forever._

She understood why the character had wanted that.

She was just as greedy in her desire for forever, although hers was for a different reason.

Safety was promised in moments. They were the gaps, and maybe it was wrong to do that, to live on the fleetingness of time and in the in betweens of what could be whole. But it made her feel safe and isn't that what everyone looked for?

With him it was just more terrifying.

He made her want more than just the brief, and that was more dangerous. That brought uncertainty. And heaven knows that with a future all planned out for her, she couldn't afford to stray away from the thin line she'd been walking on. In many ways she'd already strayed. But  _this_  kind of wandering she wasn't sure she was capable of. That's why she leaned on their moments. Because letting herself fall into his blue depths was too great a risk.

She didn't get that privilege. So if moments was all she could have, then moments was all she would stay with.

When the moment ended, she left.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Which one was your favorite day?


	12. A Yielding Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't be posting any new chapters for this story for a while, which makes me sad, but a bunch of life stuff is demanding my attention and I've been sick lately so it always wears me down and leaves me tired-although I'm sure my stubborn ass is still gonna want to push through it and write anyway. Hope you enjoy this one and thank you for the ones that have given this story a chance, I really am glad people are liking it cause I worry 'oh crap, it could have been better' and so on and so on, so thank you for sticking through if you've read all eleven chapters so far!

Chapter 12: A Yielding Heart

**SATURDAY**

Emma walked in balancing a tray with a few different assorted items rather than the usual cup of tea. The chamomile instead had been replaced with a chalice stacked to the very rim with ice cubes, a light blue towel folded nicely in half like a regular napkin, and to the side of those things was her own cravings of soft chocolate chip cookies that had been left over from yesterday. Really she'd woken up with a huge sugar appetite to fill after dealing with an annoying unsatisfied stomach most of the night, and that was why two other plates were topped with cinnamon rolls and Granny's mini blueberry muffins along with two glasses of milk. Joana had been surprised to see her again but hadn't questioned this sort of morning 'routine' Emma had developed. It was good because she was still too deprived of sleep to give her a passable answer; it was obvious that it all wasn't just for her and she was sure the guards and servants in the kitchen had noticed by now but they still kept a closed mouth and never wondered aloud in her presence. They were respectable and she appreciated that, but Graham's response to seeing her with the tray about to go into Killian's room was a...confusing matter. He'd appeared at the other end of the hallway and she'd seen him out of the corner of her eye. Although she couldn't be sure it was him--it had been brief and blurry from a distance--and she'd gone in just as quick, she was positive it was him if his acquired hunter's footsteps told her anything. He'd just frozen completely and watched. Emma didn't know what to make of that. It was the first time she had seen him in days. It always went like this after a moment, days and weeks would go by before they crossed a word again and Emma wondered which of them was the cause of this unspoken treaty of distance. If it was him or her, or just both who found it easier to suppress than actknowledge. Graham had a good heart, and she didn't know how to unburden it from the heavy weight it seemed to carry, partly because of her. It was the type of conversation they would never have, the gap placed between the princess and her guard left no room for more. Even if she wanted more she could never grant it in return despite how good a heart he had.

She felt as if a heavy weight had been dropped on  _her_ heart knowing that he'd seen the tray filled with sweets and things to heal that she'd never brought to him, and yet, to Killian she took it willingly.

She came willingly.

"Hi." Emma smiled as Killian turned his head in her direction and then pushed himself to an upright position against the headboard, adjusting the pillows on his back with a bit more ease this time.

"Hello, Emma." He responded with a smile of his own as she set the tray down on his nightstand and then sat down on the bed with a little bounce on her spot. "I apologize for falling asleep on you yesterday, your reading was lovely as far as I got to hearing it in my awake state," he said sincerely.

The pink that tinted her cheeks then was more from his voice that told her he was being honest than the compliment of how  _lovely_ her reading was. She dipped her head down and reached an arm out toward the towel and allowed the hair to fall over her face to make it less noticeable. Once the pink had died down she turned back to him with a cold cube in her hand and the small towel in the other. He raised an eyebrow but she merely gestured for him to give her one of his hands. He did it so slowly and she took it without hesitation, the towel unfolded over her whole palm as she set the cube in the center and then brought it over to the top part of his hand, all covered in bruises, and gently pressed down on them. With her other hand she held the wrist with the hand she was working on to keep  _his_ hand up without needing to put it on her lap and concentrated on that rather than the feel of his skin on her fingers.

"It's fine," She assured him while moving the cube around so that every bruise could get the cold too. "It was still very early when I came, it was more mumbling I was doing by the time you fell asleep."

"Yes well, the bruises make it a bit more bothersome through the night..." He trailed off and then just scratched behind his ear, face blushing for having admitted it, she guessed.

Emma rested the ice cube on one bruise for a few minutes and he broke the silence after she began on another, nervously clearing her throat.

"Emma, It's alright, you don't have to do that. They don't hurt as much, the physician is taking good care of me, I can assure you."

The physician was the one who had told her this would help alleviate some of his pain, make them numb for a little even though the pale green of them indicated they were already in the last stages of disappearing. She knew they still hurt since her own acquired bruising on that day was much the same, but his were more plentiful and she guessed that it made sleep a challenge when he moved, turned his head or even tried to find a comfortable position when she would accidentally apply pressure and at the very least flinch.

"Yeah well." She didn't say anything more; she honestly couldn't FIND the words to explain that she felt the need to do this, to take away some of his pain even for a short amount of time, that she wanted to do this, so she left it at that and he didn't push.

After a beat passed she looked up and he raised an eyebrow toward the untouched plates, momentarily been forgotten. A small smile tugged at her lips now that he reminded her, aroma of the warm sweets--per her request to heat them up--suddenly more eminent.

"Which one do you want?"

"Which one is your favorite?"

Emma rolled her eyes, "Just pick, Killian."

"I was being serious," He grumbled. "and for the record I've never tried any of these so that's why I asked."

"Ahuh."

"Fine then, I'll try those...blue...small...are those blueberries in there?"

 She smiled. "Yeah, Granny--she's like a close friend to the family, sort of like a grandmother to me, but she's actually Ruby's grandmother. Ruby is my godmother, and they both run this nice bakery slash restaurant in town. Those are mini muffins, they're really good, I think you'll like them," she said as she carefully picked up the plate and let him take however many he wanted--which was only one.

He eyed it warily and then took a bite, half of it disappearing as crumbs fell to his lap and he licked his lips in delight, quickly throwing the other half into his mouth and smacking his lips in approval, nodding his head. "Mmmm, you were right, I think I'm slightly dazed now."

She chuckled and let him take two more, all gone before she even set the plate back on the tray, quickly popping one into her own mouth too.

"You're very fond of them," Killian noted and she nodded.

Emma shrugged. "I mean my  _real_ grandparents both died before I was even born so its always been the three of us, I'm used to that, I grew up like that. I can't say that I miss my grandparents because I never actually got to  _meet_ them but Granny is as close to a grandmother as I have and Ruby is more like a crazy aunt, so yeah, I am fond of them. They've been in my life since I was a child so I grew up with Granny's tough but protective demeanor and Ruby's wild, playful ways when she would keep me company in the nursery. It's hard to NOT be fond of them when they're the closest additions to family I have. Although I think I would have been fond of them anyway even if I had cousins or brothers or sisters and uncles to join us, they're just amazing people."

He gave her a small smile but it fell too quickly into a mournful expression he tried to cover up but she caught it anyway and then took a few minutes before she dared to ask,

"What about you?"

"Me?" He questioned, and she gave him time to collect his thoughts by focusing on switching the melted ice cube with the newer one and then taking his other hand to gently press the cold on the bruises there. He seemed to be lost in a memory so the silence stretched and when it went on too long she tried to bring him back by saying,

"Yes, well my father said that you didn't..." She trailed off, suddenly aware of how invading she must seem and deciding too just let it die there; she'd meant for it to be encouraging but even to her ears it sounded like  _my father said that you were orphans_ and now she felt bad for bringing up Granny and Ruby and the topic of family up at all.

"Aye." His voice was quiet and he avoided her gaze by looking down at his hands as he spoke; to make it easier she kept her focus down too and listened. "Liam and I were both very young when our father sold us away. Our memories are a haze, you could say. The only two people I am able to recall is my mother and father, and anyone else that could have been family well...they're just not there. Of course, even if my brother and I ever decided to set out to find them they would be long buried by now."

That confused her.  "Why?"

"The plague," He answered numbly. "It struck my homeland. I don't remember the actual name of it but it brought a slow, agonizing death to whoever fell victim to it." he nervously cleared his throat." My mother was one of those victims."

The cube dug deeper into the bruise at the same time her heart did a beat in a sadness for him, but she didn't think he even felt it. He sounded so empty then, and in that moment he wasn't Killian. The voice that spoke wasn't his and his eyes were pools of flooding memories playing out in front of him. His face was unreadable and it was an unfamiliar feeling but she  _hurt_ for him. And she wanted to say something, anything to bring the life back to him, but the cube only dug deeper as if showing that she felt his pain. But really she couldn't, she couldn't even understand. She could only let him know she was there, and it seemed too small.

"She was beautiful," and his voice appeared to lift up a little in the remembrance of his mother but then it slowly descended. "with her dirty brown hair, and that kind smile. That's one of the few memories I have of her because afterwards she began to fade away before my eyes. I saw her becoming weaker day by day until she was just gone one night. The worst part of the plague was how easily spread it was. We could not touch her, and she could not kiss us on the forehead anymore. She was simply cut away from us, and even when she was no longer breathing there could still be no contact for fear that we might fall ill too. Our goodbyes had to be said in our minds. She didn't even get a proper burial, proper headstone, she was just removed and burned along with the rest. Just ashes in the wind."

Emma met his eyes. "I'm sorry, Killian."

He tried to smile. "It's alright. I was only five then. She's at peace now, has been for fourteen years."

_But it still hurts you._

"And your father?" She didn't know what compelled her to ask, but she did.

He scoffed and shook his head, "My father." he repeated it with such vile in his tongue like it disgusted him. "He is nothing of importance."

She realized he had walls of his own.

"Well, you are not your father, Killian."

His face was hard and his jaw was clenched, the words carried out bitterly. "I would never abandon my child like that."

"By thinking that you are already a better man than he was," She whispered.

"I am no better or worse," He shrugged. "I'm his son. That's a crueler punishment."

She gave him no warning this time, or gesture. She just leaned in and cupped his cheek with the hand that had the towel over her palm. He shivered at the sudden cold of the cube pressed against the bruise on his face but then slowly relaxed. It wasn't really her touch, not really. But it was as close as it would get so she kept the cube there as her excuse. The towel was a thin one, but the only thing soaking through was the melting ice, her skin and his skin didn't really come in contact. He closed his eyes after a minute and she didn't pull away.

That was their form of caress.

 

**SUNDAY**

"What is that?" Killian wondered out loud.

It came from outside. The sound was strained from their hearing distance, indication of the first chords of a certain melody starting up with fervor and then dying just as quick. It went on repeatedly, each time rising and falling in the same way. Somewhere in the five minutes they sat there the chords grew louder and longer, rhythm clearer and able to fully break out in one big swoop to the sky before it fell again to the ground. Emma smiled and stood up, walking over to his window to draw back the curtains to expose them to the early six A.M light.

"It's the musicians practicing for the commencing song of the Golden Flower Festival," she said in an almost forlorn tone.

"Festival?"

"Yes," she turned her head to look back at him. "It's this celebration in honor of the sun, hence where they got the name of the 'Golden Flower', and it's supposed to be a party of thanks for the summer season and all the good plantation its brought to our kingdom," her gaze went back to the sprawled out town just as a gentle breeze swept into the room. "It's mostly for the people though, so they can have a day of fun and games in reward for all their hard work," a soft smile appeared. "The children love it. It goes on from morning to night; it actually will be starting in about two hours or so. My parents created it after they defeated The Evil Queen, so it's been going on for as long as I've been alive."

"It sounds very nice."

Emma nodded. Guilt sunk its teeth into her and she quietly said, "I'm sorry you have to miss it, Killian."

His tone was light, "I meant what I said at the ball, you know, I'm not much for crowds."

She hummed, distant. "Yeah, me neither."

"Will you be going? I assume--"

"No," Emma turned around and walked away from the window, sitting back down on the bed. "I told my parents I was feeling unwell yesterday so I won't be attending. They asked Liam if he wanted to go but I think he refused because he didn't want you to be alone. Perhaps you can convince him."

His eyebrows knit.  "And...  _are_ you feeling unwell, Emma?"

 She shrugged, not really in the mood for talking about herself and instead eyes drifting toward the cuff on her wrist. She realized after five minutes that she was glaring down at it intensely and tried to relax her face, looking away only when she felt her anger simmered down enough even though she knew Killian was watching her. She met his slightly arched eyebrow and tried to play it off as nothing, instead asking, "How are you feeling?"

He gave her a knowing look, "Well at the moment," he turned his gaze upward as if deeply considering. "pensive, curious, worried, but, " he set his eyes back on her, "in regards to my health well, truthfully I have been feeling better," he winked for effect,"Must be you, darling."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head but the laugh escaped. She sobered up quickly though and she knew he recognized the guilt once again doing the speaking for her, "It is anything but me when I'm the one that caused all those injuries keeping you here."

"I've survived worse."

She believed him.

Letting out a frustated sigh, she looked down at him and opened her mouth to begin protesting-mostly because today her conscious felt particularly heavy-but he stopped her with, "And, if I recall correctly, we agreed all would be forgiven when you fluffed up my pillows. You did it and now your wallowing is-"

"I am not-"

He shook his head, effectively cutting her off. "YOU ARE. It's not just that, though. I don't know what else is holding your mood sour, but is it really worth it to let a whole day pass just to avoid your parents?"

"It is worth it!" Emma dropped her hands to her sides as she jumped up like he'd just thrown poison in her direction instead of mere words that did as well in angering the itch going on in her wrist.

Killian's eyes followed her as she paced the room, not realizing how hard she was gripping the cuff until he pointedly cleared his throat and her locked fingers came back a deathly white. The itching was merciless in her continuous anxiety, she felt almost threatened to race to him and ask him in an endless river of tears to relieve her of this restrain. All at once she felt tired, wanting to curl up right there on the floor until the madness seemed to subside and at the same time she was actually worried of him granting that relieve. Somehow she knew he would and that's probably what kept her from leaning on him.

He would grant it and then what?

Thoughts of a guard standing outside her door, hearing her sniffles on the nights when her desperation ran most high caused a torment in her head and all of a sudden she felt too exposed. Her feet aimed for the door before she could actually begin flying towards it, but a familiar voice stopped her from carrying on with her cowardly attempt to get far away from him.

"Your Highness, is everything alright?"

Emma and Killian's eyes locked for a moment before she stiffly said, "Yes, Graham, everything is fine. You may go."

His hesitation to leave was clear when he hovered at the threshold more than was necessary and still, the distrust was evident on his face when he did a quick glance between the two of them and then nodded, expression becoming impassive again and then disappearing when he fully stepped out the door, and the door closed with a perfect little click. Emma stood there for a minute wondering if Liam was about to burst in too, thanks to how loud her voice had actually been. Killian remained silent and both their focus was fixed on staring at the door, but when no one else entered abruptly, she finally turned to him and he finally spoke.

"Although I've refrained from mentioning it, I have noticed that black cuff you've recently taken to wearing around your wrist."

_And why would you mention it anyway?_

What business was it to him? Absolutely nothing.

She almost laughed because she wasn't 'taken' to wearing it, and the guards at the door could tell him that.

"And also the discomfort it seems to be causing you."

Emma didn't know what to say, or if she even wanted to say anything. She was still standing where she had frozen in her pace and had no intentions of returning back to the bed, not even sure she wanted to hear him or if she wanted to be in the same space as him with her vulnerability so on display. No. That last part was easy, she DID NOT want to be here, not a minute longer. It was suffocating and she was so tempted. It was incredibly wrong and it made no sense. It made no sense. No sense whatsoever to want those arms to wrap around her and feel for herself if they brought the warmth she needed. No sense to want those hands at her waist, maybe lower. No sense to want to trace those scars with her fingertips in that butterfly touch and have him do the same with her skin. Have him do it to her the whole night, the rest of the morning. Damn, she was beyond right and wrong, but not beyond enough to jump on that bed and have him cradle her until her magic felt right again. No. She was only beyond enough to know that she needed to walk out.

So that's what she did.

_Run, princess, run._

 

**MONDAY**

There was barely any sound as her feet padded down the hallway. She squinted through the darkness, eyes searching for any guards that could be standing at his door. For a certain guard that could be standing there too. Her relief at finding no one only lasted for a second when her hand was at the knob, about to turn, and she bit her lip, hesitant now and snapping her head towards the familiar sound of heavy boots rounding the corner. It didn't really matter because any questions she could silence with a shake of her head, or by simply putting her hand up in a suggestion that crossing her, crossing a  _princess,_ would not turn out well. It's what she had done with the guard at her door and wasn't the least bit ashamed to use her status as a way out, but the nightmares and doubts didn't really let you think. They simply served as a guide to what you will regret in the morning, except for now the stars and moon were out and as long as they remained there her regret could be put on hold. 

_I will regret this_ but her eyes still scanned the room and found only his sleeping form, making her heart giddy with anticipation as she quietly closed the door with a small exhale of relief and then her feet practically flew to close the distance. For all the running she did, Emma came to an abrupt stop once she was at the bed's edge where she always sat, and for the first time in her whole escapade something finally seemed to come through. How selfish she was being. She'd walked out on him without another word and now she was back without any idea what to say.

The bed dipped with her weight and Killian stirred slightly. Her body stiffened, not quite ready for him to wake up yet and see her next to him.  _This is harmless_ was her chant as she looked over her shoulder and saw his chest rising up and down in resting oblivion, and then slowly scooted herself a few inches away from him, decidedly lying on her side and using her hands as a makeshift pillow under her head, legs spread out straight to avoid clashing against his curled up feet. His head was tilted at a crooked angle and his face was soft, one side of his mouth twitching as if whatever he was dreaming about was causing him to want to smile, and one hand rested on his stomach while the other hand lay by her back, arm out and slack on the mattress as he continued sleeping. Her eyelids began to droop within a few minutes and she fought it for a little bit, strictly reminding herself that she needed to stay in this position and not drift towards him.  _Just stay like this, Emma, he probably won't even notice._ It was some strong wishful thinking but she needed it to make herself feel better when her breathing evened out in a yearned for drift, and her eyes blurred the blackness of the room and soon she was slipping. And slipping, slipping, slipping into a peaceful slumber...

 

 

No sunlight is streaming in through the window, but she blinks awake anyway, like the dark of the room itself was heavy on her sight. Although her eyes are open now, it takes her mind a couple minutes to catch up on where she is and more specifically...where her head is now. It seems that no amount of promising could have stopped this. All those strict reminders be damned. Her eyelids fluttered against a soft fabric that wasn't hers, and turning her nose she was met with it immediately, leg absentmindly sliding up his leg and hand curling around his shirt as it gathered it in her fist in a distracting daze in response to breathing him in, almost spooning herself against his side seeking his warmth when a light breeze came in and made her shiver unexpectedly. He stirred when he felt the vibration next to him. She stilled, afraid despite the fact that they had probably been sleeping for five hours now. On some unspoken agreement within herself, she decided not to move and wait. It felt like it took years when it was only mere seconds, but her eyes began drooping again on their own accord, and with his chest continuing to rise up and down it quickly began to lull her to sleep until he suddenly let out a loud sigh and she startled. Light fingertips danced their way up her back then and it slowly helped calm her down from her jump, muscles visibly relaxing under him until he set his hand at her shoulder and she realized that somehow in the short time they had fallen into oblivion his arm had come around her. She still cautiously moved, so when she lifted her head up slightly from his warm chest, he brought his other hand up and ran it over his face, using a few minutes to simply blink as he adjusted to the dark and then looked down at her, the hint of surprise in his expression.

"Emma, when did you get here?"

"You were already sleep," she mumbled against his shirt as if it explained why she was so nuzzled close to him.

Internally she scoffed. She didn't even have a good explanation for THAT.

He nodded as if he understood her nonsense. She continued staring up at him in a state of there but not there, his face becoming blurry before her even though she was trying with all her will to fight against it because suddenly she did feel like talking. All those nights finally catching up to her and drilling her exhaustion deeper, except this time it seemed like she could really have a good night's sleep. And it would be right here,  _in his arms._

"Is something..." Killian trailed off, eyes falling closed for a whole second before he abruptly opened them again, apparently having a similar battle to hers. She nudged his chest with her nose to keep going despite the fact that they were both walking the tightrope of dreams and wakefulness. "did something happen? Are you alright?"

"I'm sorry, Killian." she answered instead and this time squeezed her eyes shut to keep the tears that had suddenly welled up there from falling, because today showcasing her vulnerability wasn't a choice and it made her bitter and frustated and like she wanted to cling to him harder, but  _damn_ were her emotions a mess. In total earnest she wanted to run away again, the twitching of her feet serving as her giveaway.

"You were very vexed is all."

"I was very rude is all."

He chuckled softly at the little mock she threw, and despite the pouring irritation currently gripping at her insides, Emma smiled.

"I think what I meant to say was that it's understandable, Emma."

She scoffed, "Is it?"

"Well believe it or not, darling, it is easier to walk away than to let out your troubles to a complete stranger."

Emma wrinkled her nose," I think you have it backwards."

He hummed in question.

"You're also not a complete stranger."

"I am also not a complete friend either."

They spoke in whispers, quiet and content.

He had a point there so it made her wonder, "Then what are you?"

She saw his eyebrows knit at that and then turn his head to smile down at her. "I am the boy who did not scream when he woke up and saw  _you_ here."

Emma's laughter ringed throughout the room and she cut herself off, afraid it might have been too loud. She quickly lifted her head from his chest and looked at the door but no one entered, so she settled back down again. After a small sigh she looked up at him with a grin. "Lucky for me then."

"OH," Killian agreed with another winning smile. "It is lucky for you because I don't startle easily."

Emma rolled her eyes and gave him a look. "That, or the fact that you're a heavy sleeper."

He winked and she hoped he didn't feel her blush through his shirt. "I'll let you confirm it further then."

"You're weirder when you're half-awake," she quipped, trying to will her heated cheeks to die down faster, but it proved to be in vain when what he said next ignited her magic, and for a second her whole body glowed a faint white under her skin and made her intake a breath of air at the intensity-so brief a second that she wasn't sure he noticed.

They fell into a comfortable silence then, and she was already halfway gone when his tired voice suddenly broke it, "m, do you want...would you like a pillow?"

"No," she whispered. "This is fine."

 

**TUESDAY**

Slowly, her vision cleared.

Her hand glided across something soft and she played with it for a while between her fingers.  _Heaven,_ her mind thought. She turned her head, blinking away the last dregs of sleep-although there wasn't much pulling her under; she felt the best rested in days and had to smile to herself for that because she clearly missed it-and her nose and mouth bumped into the same soft thing her hand was still gliding on. It felt familiar when she breathed in the scent of the shirt and then  _CRAP!_ her eyes finally snapped open and she abruptly sat up, muscles not yet ready and immediately protesting as she did, a miracle it didn't cause her whiplash. 

Emma bit her lip and looked down at him, still sleeping soundly and unaware of the body no longer pressed against his as she put both hands on the mattress for balance and swung her legs to the floor-too fast, it was too fast and her arms wobbled and gave out, accidentally dropping her backwards and landing her head against his chest with a heavy  _thump!_ that knocked the air out of him as his eyes flew open and an 'oof' escaped his mouth.

She covered her eyes and let out a sigh in utter defeat, "Sorry."

_Such stealth, Emma, such stealth._

 "Oh that's alright, darling," he grimaced as he brought himself up to a sitting position once her head was off his chest. "nothing like getting the air knocked out of you to assure you it will be a wonderful day."

"Yeah," she muttered distractedly, still trying to recover from her embarrassment. She made it to the edge and planted herself there-what was the point now?-and then ran her hands over the navy blue maxi dress to smooth out any creases and then do the same to her hair, bringing down the strands sticking out in the back and gently combing with the in between space of her fingers to avoid any tangles getting caught. He was silent throughout the entire thing, and she didn't know what to say, but to her relief he focused his gaze on the window instead of her. He seemed to be mesmerized by the scattered stars fading away to be over taken by the rays beginning to stretch across the sky, and its accompanying clouds already moving in time behind it; Emma couldn't help getting lost in how well the sunlight highlighted his eyes. The moonlight was still her favorite though.

"Killian."

Respectively, his eyes settled on her again and he arched an eyebrow. "Yes, Emma?"

"The black scar you have..." she began and reached out her arm as if to gently brush her fingers where the dark mark still seemed to throb but pulled her hand at the last second. "I didn't-"

"No, you didn't cause it, I already had it," he rushed to confirm her conflicting thoughts, voice wobbling at the end, and she realized it pained him to talk about it when he swallowed harshly and winced like he was remembering something for the fleetest of seconds.

More became clear with that reaction and she felt her heart drop when she whispered, "You were the one the captain hit."

"Aye."

"Why? Why did he do it?"

Killian shook his head. "That's not important."

_It's important to me._

Somehow it strongly was.

"What was it with?"

It was sad to see how well he understood what she was saying.

"A whip."

Emma leaned in, tentative. "It still hurts." she said it as a statement and not a question. This wasn't the type of thing you questioned. He clearly was done with the topic too when he scarcely nodded and didn't provide anything else. She wasn't ready to let it go though, not when the scar still glared at her from where she was sitting. Both hands on the mattress were restless, itching having gone up to a ferocious ardor.

Only when he wrapped his hand around the cuff did she register her shaking. Their eyes met and Emma glanced down, willing it to stop, probably staring at it too long when he quietly said, "Hey," pulling her attention back to him but not enough to keep her from glancing down at it obsessively.

"Is this supposed to be some sort of restrain?"

"Yes." Like him, she also wouldn't give out more than she wanted.

"To protest others from what, you?" he appeared to be genuinely confused by this notion-so believably so that she could almost believe it, but of all people, he was the hardest to believe. "or to protect yourself?"

She shrugged, suddenly something heavy weighing on her shoulders. "Others, for sure."

"They're afraid of your magic?" he questioned so shockingly, like he was truly having a hard time thinking it was true, that it took her a few minutes to form a response, lost in the depths of her fear that was always looming under, waiting her to embrace it with open arms that promised to bring her horrors and vivid images when she closed her eyes.

"You should be too." The fact that he showed the opposite annoyed her a bit, simply because the little voice inside continued urging  _he's lying._

"Trust."

"What?"

"Trust."

Anger arose. "You don't know me well enough to develop trust, Killian. Not even a smidge of it."

He hummed, "Hmmm..." and this only lit her anger more, "I'll confide you something, Emma."

"Do you really want to push your luck like that?"

She was being serious, but he chuckled anyway and said, "We'll see."

Emma chose not to respond, for the uncertainty that what he would say next would manage to break through.

"I was being honest before about me getting better because of you," immediately she opened her mouth to protest but he rapidly continued, "If I'm to be more specific, it's your visits these past days," her eyebrows knit and he took in a breath that made her wary, guessing that what he would say now would affect her deeply. " Just as you felt the blast of your magic that afternoon, I felt it too," Emma swallowed. "and...it's complexing to find a way to put this into words, but every morning you've been here, I've  _felt_ your magic and it vibrates this strength when you're in close proximity." she began to shake her head but he cut her off. "I don't think you realize what that means, Emma, your magic  _wants_ to heal, and it casts off light despite your denial towards it."

A part of her doubted immensely, enough fear having been planted already. The other part told her it was true, told her it made sense, gave her an idea as to why she kept coming, because her magic was drawn and with the restrain it practically craved to heal wounds. That wasn't the reason entirely for why she kept coming. But still, she refused to give in. She could tell he recognized her resistance.

He gently tugged on her wrist and his words burned into her walls. "I trust your magic to heal me. You are the one that needs to be capable of trusting it too."

"No," Emma said decisively. "you don't know what you're putting your trust into. Magic doesn't dabble your way, and you most certainly have no idea what freeing me from this cuff will do after days of containment."

"Let's find out then."

Her eyes flicked to his lips at that moment, and there was the distinct feeling of the cuff being opened, and the dank air hitting her suddenly exposed wrist. A gasp caught in her throat and she was rendered speechless, seeing it now plainly useless in front of her and then to her complete and utter shock, the little holes drilled into her flesh around the leftover print that glowed a pure white and that adding to her surprise, did not hurt in the least like it should have when it looked like her entire wrist had been stabbed numerous times with a pencil.

"What the hell...what is this?"

"Your hand," his gaze was focused on the sparkling white radiating off her palm like she was holding a million little diamonds inside her skin, much like the sun stretched far with its rays.

"Yeah," she breathed.

It felt so good. So, so, so good to finally have it off that she couldn't think for a minute, too lost in the relief, too happy in the sensation of having it back, actually HAPPY.

Emma turned and her smile exploded wide as she threw herself into his arms, dress sliding up in the process as he caught her at the waist steadily, not quite realizing that her body and mind had currently overpowered anything rational and trapped her in a haze that indicated all the sparks had begun dancing wildly through her veins again. The force of her so unexpectedly caused him to fall back with her on top, and they both chuckled, Emma still captivated in the recently freed magic that flowed savagely and untamed throughout her entire form that a flash of white burst out of her in her driven exhilaration. He gasped at the heat that potently burned where his hands were at her waist but didn't let go, and she closed her eyes and brought her glowing palm to envelop around his neck to transmit her healing sparks and flickers into his black bruise. Slowly the glow became softer, diminishing completely when the bruise lost its dark hue and began to resemble his original color.

The fog she was in soon began to lift and her muscles responded to it by becoming lighter and more relaxed, losing the slight tension that had gripped her bones in that second and allowing all the numb parts to awaken. A buzzing remained and clouded her ears, fingers trailing over his face as his eyes fell closed to her touch, and they both got carried away in the caress that seeped from her skin into his bruises, hugging them to her fire that blessed him with warmth and didn't burn, nursing them as she'd first wanted to do and now did so with the gentle glide of her thumb. When Emma did remove her hands it was to be met with the faint ghosts of what had once been bruises; he smiled shyly up at her, but her mind swirled with the fact that they were only a breaths away, the buzz gone and letting her head think clearly again.

_It's just you and me now._

 She was panting lightly; the magic having taken its toll on her after suddenly being liberated to run. With a motion that felt like it took a million years, she slowly removed herself from his chest and then sat up, standing up from the bed and her dress dragging against the floor as she walked a few steps away. Killian was sitting upright again when she turned around to look, and for a moment she just stood there, unsure of what to say until she reached forward and picked the black cuff from off the cover, hesitant and not quite ready to put it back on yet when she returned to where she'd been standing. 

Emma had been right. The regrets hit her hard.

She shuddered involuntarily when her hand was at the knob.

_But damn had it been worth it._

 

 

 


	13. A Faint Spark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I finally got through my writer's block for chapter 15 and then 16 flowed easily after that. All four new chapters done, it's just a matter of how fast I type. Damn I missed writing for this story but luckily I'm back to a routine -at least until February rolls around and then I'll probably get distracted with writing something for Valentines day because that's just me and the impatient muse wanting to go at it. Hope you enjoy this one and happy late, late, late new year and Christmas!

Chapter 13: A Faint Spark

Emma brushes her hand absently against the earring she's wearing and then lets her hand drop to her when she rounds the corner, strand of hair she had tucked back falling forward. Her feet begin to drag when the guards appear in her line of sight and that familiar dread she'd managed to elude for days now suddenly sparked up, fresh and ready to take root. She supposes it's fair payback for avoiding her parents so much but  _seriously, why now?_   Why now when what she needs to have firmly in her grip is the grit ( and okay, yeah, courage too ) to walk in there and just sit her ass down. It's not that her excuses were running out -or well, they kind of were but nobody had mentioned yet why Princess Emma was always precisely sick around the time when lunch or dinner rolled around, so as long as everyone continued to NOT say anything then she could continue to pretend her sneezes were causing the ground to shake ( her mother had almost had a heart attack with  _that one_ ) but really crazy sneezing only held up so far. So it was...she really didn't know what it was that had possessed her to come have breakfast, but she had woken up and there had been the faint little voice  _but is it really worth it_   that sounded too much like Killian's voice that had managed to convince her enough to get her here, and now?  Well now she wanted to bail and curse the Killian in her head and the one upstairs too for telling her that.

He was right. She didn't want him to be right. She wanted him to be wrong and always tell her the wrong thing so that his words wouldn't stick the way they had done for three days now.

These three days had felt longer, and it was amazing how much more he burned in her mind when she  _wasn't_ visiting him anymore, like hell, what was that supposed to mean?

_Nothing,_ Emma fiercely reminded herself because at this point she was just pissed.

Admittedly ( and grudgingly and reluctantly and whatever synonyms after that ) he had helped her come to terms with one thing. Emma had been careful to push it down, but he had to go and unawarely bring it back up again. She had been letting it lie in the shadows, she had been okay letting it loom above her stubbornness because it made avoiding them easier -or she had let herself believe she was okay with it, because really it was one layer to cover the other layer and she was building a whole wall against the truth until he came and snatched one of the layers off and now suddenly, here was Emma, forced to face that she yearned for those light conversations back with her mother and father when all they talked about was nothing. It was meaningless things and she hadn't appreciated that then but she certainly did now when all they had to speak for was the tension in the air.

She certainly did appreciate it now when there was no one to ask about her day, and when her vision would blur over her plate because it hit her hard then how alone she was. It hit her hard then when the silent tears begun to fall and there was no one to comfort her but the gentle breeze that slipped into her room as she hugged a pillow to her chest for the sake of holding onto something -even if that something was cotton and not something  _real_ with a heart and warm arms to go to.

Emma remembered Killian's arms and the way they had felt three nights ago. His hand had been so soft on her shoulder, fingers dancing their way up her back, and his body, his body had been so solid and warm and  _hers_ and just so there that she hadn't wanted to pull away so fast and lose the tenderness with which he had held her throughout their entire sleep. It was so new and so different from the way her parents, Graham, and even August had ever wrapped their arms around her because... Killian's clung to her skin, if there was a less weird way to put it, and sometimes she wanted to close her eyes and lean into that but then realized she was only leaning into a memory. He wasn't there, he wasn't there next to her. But the dreams were.

"Princess Emma?"

Emma blinked. "Huh?"

The guard motioned with a sweep of his hand if she wanted him to open the door because  _crap_ who knows how long she had been standing there already, so she bobbed her head forward, still half dazed and probably looking unstable because of the way she had been leaning slightly back on the balls of her feet and  _oh man_ , her cheeks were now blushing.  _Yes, yes, open the damn door._ The other guard was eyeing her worried and seeming ready to run behind her and catch her if she collapsed, and she blamed Killian for having such good arms. Yeah, it was his fault. Pointedly, she cleared her throat and straightened her spine up, nodding her head towards the door again, this time with a bit more authority now that she'd been caught in her daydreaming bubble. The guard quickly reached for the door's handle and pulled, as did the one to her right, and she breathed a small sigh when she passed the threshold because at least her rosy cheeks was out of  _their_ sight.

But...now she was in her parent's sight and that small sigh turned into a gulp because now she was here, and she was still kind of out of it, and her mind was racing to switch from Killian to her parents.

Her eyes flicked to her mother first. Snow and David had their hands entwined and resting atop the table's surface. They hadn't noticed her yet, but she jumped when the doors shut boomingly behind her and their heads snapped in her direction. She froze for a second at their hesitant smiles and the softness that crossed their eyes, and because she clearly saw their shoulders sink down in relief AT THE SAME TIME - how did one even manage to do that? must be a marriage thing- and so, well, she's assaulted and caught off guard and she's not sure if the pink in her cheeks has subsided enough. It sparks up something though, something that isn't far from ' _I miss you, and I want you to be my mom and dad again_ '. Or maybe that spark was always there, just waiting. But still, Emma's unprepared and it's obvious they had been unsure of her coming because of so many absences. So Emma does what all unprepared people do and takes the easy way out, mirroring their hesitant smile because frankly, she's threading the same cautious line they are and doesn't want to ruin whatever 'nice moment' they've accomplished today. It's a feat, really, considering all the other days. They're all stubborn in their own way. Emma knows she never would have given them that hesitant smile -or anything that was a  _smile-_ if she hadn't been so distracted, but at the same time she doesn't want that spark to go away. Not completely.

She begins walking toward them and that's when her eyes drift to... _oh._

"Liam!" Emma tries to greet him cheerfully but she's not sure how surprised her voice sounds or how much her slightly wide eyes are giving away because hell, now she's uncomfortable and she doesn't know how much of that is showing on her face. "I, I didn't know you would be joining us." her eyes flick to her parents briefly and then back to him as she pulls out the chair with a little too much force, and its legs scrape noisily against the floor and she winces along with the servants coming over with platters of food.

"Your Highness," he smiles politely and inclines his head as she takes her seat but she can tell he's just as uneasy as her, but Emma's not sure which one is worse, if the tension between her parents or the tension between her and Liam. "And, uh, well in complete truthfulness I didn't want to leave Killian to have breakfast alone, but he said one of us should be here, at least."

Liam's. Liam's tension was worse.

Suddenly Emma felt self conscious on her spot. He wasn't looking at her but she could practically hear the judgemental thoughts crossing his mind at this very second, and it made her fidgety. She tried not to think of Killian but  _crap,_ she'd been thinking about Killian before she even got here, and now with Liam sitting in front of her, it felt wrong in a way. Especially because she'd been thinking of Killian's  _arms_ and now his brother was literally right there, and like, it hadn't even been two minutes ago. It felt sinful or something. It certainly hadn't been right.

_But it was just...sleep._

Sleeping was innocent. But there had been touching. Touching wasn't innocent. Touches usually meant  _something,_ and while Emma wasn't sure -not sure she wanted to be sure- what that  _something_ was, she couldn't shake it off just like that either. It wasn't easy to brush off the safety his fingertips had brought her along her back, or how calm he had helped her feel even with the cuff still itching furiously at her wrist, it all just stuck with her and three days wasn't enough to make her forget. Waking up entangled also wasn't innocent, but Emma hadn't wanted to think too much about that because then she remembered how  _good_ it had felt for those few seconds she had been lost in it before awareness kicked in. She almost accidentally grinned in the middle of her derail because he was a snuggler too and well...she had definitely liked having his nose buried in her hair, lips ghosting over her forehead, breathing coming softly at her skin like its own form of caress-

_STOP!_

She really needed to stop because Liam was looking at her too curiously and she was feeling too guilty, on top of that she didn't know just how guilty she was looking on the outside, so damn.

"It's alright, Liam, we understand," Snow smiled warmly and placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "we get that you care a lot for Killian, you don't have to worry about offending us."

"It's actually very admirable to us," David says and Snow nods while Emma is late to catch up and almost drops the fork she was absently twirling between her fingers. "The kind of bond you have as brothers, not many have that-"

"And you're so grown up, Liam!" Snow cuts in and her voice takes a serious tone. "Your maturity goes so beyond your years, and we know that part of it was because you had to raise Killian alone, not only as your brother but as many other things too, but...we just want you to know that you're not alone anymore. Neither you or Killian. You have us now."

"Oh, um," Liam laughs nervously and  _bet you weren't expecting that_ , Emma thinks. "Well thank you. Killian and I are truly grateful."

Emma can tell he feels a bit uncomfortable -more so than he was when he realized she as joining them for breakfast,  _cause trust me, Liam, I feel the same way_ , but she couldn't help feeling that little savage satisfaction that someone else had gotten a taste of her mother's hope speech and boy did she now how overwhelming that could be when it was suddenly dropped on your lap. Of course this one, in particular, wasn't bad. It ringed truth because yes, Killian and Liam were not alone anymore, and Emma knew her parents, they would keep their word and Killian and Liam would have someone other than themselves to go to.

_Killian goes to you,_ her mind decidedly to annoyingly drop and then to annoy her further,  _and you go to him._

It panicked her briefly, the underlying question if Killian had told Liam about him and her-

She grit her teeth, wanting to shake herself.  _WHAT him and her, Emma? There is no him and her, or you and him, or...whatever. Whatever._

-If Killian had shared anything with Liam. Obviously they were close, but Emma wondered if they were THAT close for him to have shared that precisely, all their quiet mornings and that one time curled up against each other. All their quiet mornings and one time curled up against each other that up ti'll now Emma had thought of as hers and Killain's only. But now she worried that Liam knew and that could explain why he was so critical and uncomfortable in her presence.

Well, more than he already had been. And yet at the same time that panic and worry only lasted a minute before she decided that Killian hadn't said anything, that he'd kept their moments -her visits- to himself. Somehow Emma  _knew._ And that was probably more concerning and scary because it meant that in their short time together she had learned a little bit about him without even realizing it. That also meant he had learned a little bit about her and they had both ended up learning a little bit about each other. Without even realizing it, without even being straight up about it and listing her troubles one by one, Emma had been open with him.

It was scary, just how swept up she'd gotten in their moments that she'd forgotten to be guarded.

She couldn't regret it now, but shame worked too. And shame was what she felt. Shame for letting herself get swept up so easily in their moments, so easily in his warmth and all the steadiness he had even when he was the one who winced and grimaced whenever he had to move.

"...and Killian also wants to give you his apologies," Emma blinked, Liam's voice breaking through her thoughts, so deep in her and Killian that she hadn't even heard Liam begin speaking again until Killian's name registered and... _wait, apologies for what?  How much did I miss?_ Yeah, now she was attentive. "even though these past two weeks have helped, I believe his back is still giving him a bit of a problem, and he did want to be here today, for breakfast at least, since we leave for the academy tomorrow."

_Tomorrow,_ Emma thought but it wasn't making sense.

And then it DID make sense.

_Tomorrow,_ Emma thought again and her brain processed it and all the dots connected and suddenly  _Tomorrow!_ was making sense because they were leaving for the academy  _Tomorrow._

_Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow..._

Something hit her then and she needed to shake her head to clear it, to clear the  _Tomorrow_ out, but she couldn't very well visibly do it in front of Liam and her parents. It wasn't desperation she was feeling and that wasn't what had stirred up these emotions -all the emotions that she recognized perfectly but couldn't bring herself to actknowledge out loud or...well, didn't want to actknowledge them in general. But they were there. The emotions were there.

Sadness and disappointment.

"Just make sure he gets the needed rest at the dorm," David says. "September is still a week away, hopefully that one week will improve his strengths. Snow and I came by to check on him on the afternoons, and Doc told us he is certainly much better now."

"That's right," Snow agreed and then added, "And he also seemed to be in higher spirits, brighter in a way."

 "Indeed," Liam said and his eyes flicked to Emma and she almost choked on the piece of bread. It was only for a second though and she managed to chew normally even if on the inside it felt like a huge lump going down her throat, and she never hated bread more than she did in that moment because that crap was stuck and she needed to cough  _and what the hell was THAT?_

Her parents hadn't noticed but Emma most certainly had. That flick of eye felt like an implication of some sort and she actually felt uneasy, not really sure that she wanted to know but also half hoping that their eyes would meet so that she could read it and get it over with.

Emma opened her mouth to say something when-

"Your Majesties."

Everyone's head snapped in direction of the messenger who had entered. Their slightly awkward conversation was immediately brought o a halt, and Emma's eyes fixed on her parents for a second -who didn't look surprised but  _expectant_ \- and then focused on the creamy white letter held tightly in the serious messenger's hand. The young man made his way over with a quiet "Excuse me for the interruption, Your Majesties, but the information you requested has arrived." and handed it over to Snow's waiting hand with a bow and then turned around to withdraw at David's dismissal "Thank you, Sam."

_Information?_

She watched her mother open the letter with her hands clasped firmly on her lap so that her impatience wouldn't get the best of her and do something like, say, snatch the letter from her hands and read what the big mystery was. Liam actually seemed a bit relieved for the welcome distraction of the still awkward talk, and Emma wanted to feel that relief too but could not when she recognized the seal and a crease had formed between her mother's eyebrows throughout her reading. The tension was back in the air again - _as if it had ever left,_ Emma thought bitterly, and whatever spark she had felt, whatever first step that could have been taken towards reconcile, was gone.

And if it wasn't gone yet, it probably would be after this.

_Because that seal only means one thing..._

"I don't understand," Snow put the letter down slowly and looked at David with a question.

"What's wrong?" David asked, rubbing at his chin and then leaning in to skim over the writing himself or -no, wait. It was a...list?

Liam pretended to be oblivious, suddenly very immersed in his food when just a minute ago he'd barely been grabbing anything, and Emma didn't care about his uncomfortableness because this had obviously become a family matter and he was out of place. He'd also just done his fair share of imposing uncomfortableness  _so yep, now it's your turn._

Snow stood up and  _crap._ "Emma, we need to talk."

Of course it was unavoidable, but honestly Emma had been praying for a few more days. She hated herself then for  _wanting_ a few more days because obviously she wasn't ready to face them and didn't want to face them either, but it seemed like ready or not, she would, so she nodded and stood up.

Emma really hated herself in this moment -not for her decisions, but for how unable she felt to face them and for that inkling voice that sounded exactly like her and whispered '  _Run '_ because apparently running was her thing now. It's true that you had to start somewhere but starting was always the hardest, and she was new to this. New to standing her own ground. She should have done this a long time ago but she'd chosen to keep them happy, most of the time without even realizing it and  _I lost myself._ They had held her back and she'd let them, not wanting to disappoint, not wanting to disappoint Snow White and Prince Charming.

_But you should decide your own fate, Emma,_ she heard Belle say and was hit by a pang of longing that she forced herself to ignore.

"Right," David said grimly and stood up too, motioning Emma forward. "Shall we?"

Snow turned to Liam before they left and said in a much softer tone, "Excuse us, Liam, but we'll be back shortly. Don't be shy, help yourself to everything, okay?"

"Yes," Liam nodded and inclined his head. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Snow," her mother gently corrected and he gave another polite smile before she went to David's side and the two of them walked together toward the doors in silence. Emma quickly followed after them, no doubt Liam would abandon the room and just go see Killian once he was sure the three of them and their family issues were out of sight.

Emma couldn't blame him. She kinda wanted to do the same thing too.

She frankly didn't know where they were going and wasn't about to ask either and risk having their anger drop on her in the middle of the hallway, so she went as they did, turning corner after corner and trailing behind them on the stairwell, trying to figure out on a scale of 1-10 just how mad they were. The entire time it was silent and that made it unbearable because Emma was used to them saying  _something_ , anything. This though, it kept her on edge, and she almost slumped against the door in relief when their 'Emma, we need to talk' place turned out to be the library because at least she was surrounded by books for her death. I mean, what better way was there to go than to be engulfed by endless pages of words and ink?

Killian came to mind then -or more specifically, what he SAID came to mind,  _your reading was lovely_ , and she relished on it for a second, remembering how her cheeks had tinted pink at his words. At him.

She wondered if he liked books, like like-like books. He'd seemed so content when she had been there, reading next to him and doing nothing more. She'd been content too.

Emma had been mindful of reading slow so that he could hear every word, and he had, falling asleep to her voice.

David cleared his throat and Emma looked away from the spines of books and memories to turn to her mother and father instead, thoughts of Killian vanishing when she met their eyes.

_So who's speaking first?_

"So the garner never arrived," Snow began and Emma waited,  _okay, you are._ "and so we sent a message to the school about it, and this came today," she held up the envelope even though everyone currently in the room had already seen it downstairs and yes, it was the school seal. "It came with a note from your advisor, along with a list of classes you had already chosen  _without us_ ," Emma refrained from biting her lip as her mother emptied out the contents and then unfolded a small piece of paper. "He said that you  _assured_ him,  _multiple_ times, that we were okay with it," Emma sighed. Well, she had. "and that the classes you are taking have already been imputed in the system and have been imputed for at least a week and a few days now, but that since we were not aware of the princess doing this without permission then those classes can be removed if we wish them to be."

_You mean, but that since you're king and queen of that entire building. And kingdom._

"So what?" Emma challenged. "You're gonna change them?"

It probably could have been better addressed than that cold tone she'd just used through gritted teeth, but her anger had surfaced up too.

They didn't seem fazed and Emma guessed that years of dealing with the Evil Queen had taught them to stay serene in the face of confrontation. That is what this was now, a damn confrontation. Although if it was Emma toward her parents or her parents toward Emma, she wasn't sure. Maybe both.

"You lied to us," Snow stated matter of fact.

_Yes. Yes, I did._

"Yes. Yes, I did," she was feeling guilty and on fire all at once.

Snow looked at her, a shock in her eyes for how forward and insensible she had sounded, surprise coating her features this time. Insensible. Definitely insensible. Emma definitely sounded insensible, but she wasn't. Not yet, at least.

David sighed and rolled his head up to the ceiling, probably praying for a book to fall on him sooner rather than later when Snow suddenly exclaimed, "I don't know what is going on with you, Emma!" breaking the fragile silence.

"Okay, honey..." David started gently but Emma cut in-

"IT'S MY FINAL YEAR, MOM, are you actually going to forbid me from choosing my own classes?!"

"No, that's not the point, just..." Snow took a deep breath and Emma squared her shoulders.

"Just what?"

"Just that you were angry, Emma!" her mother finally broke out, gesturing wildly with the envelope still in her hand. "I know you did this when you went into town after an argument-"

"But it is not a spur of the moment decision! It is not a whim just to get back at you, these are things that I actually want to do and something that I thought about long and hard before I went to my advisor."

Snow closed her eyes and breathed out, "Okay, I understand that you are still angry about our argument and that is obviously still pending but, "Emma sighed and dropped her forehead to her hand. "but that is a completely different matter and you cannot use that to influence your decision."

"Yes!" Emma nodded. "Yes, it did influence my decision, but my decision was already made before we even got to the part where you revealed you couldn't put your trust in me and where you decided that putting a restrainment on my magic was easier instead of finding another way, instead of talking to me, instead of giving me a choice! It was easier for  _you,_ and it was easier for your kingdom, and you cannot deny that because above all you have always put your subjects first."

"That's not true, Emma," David interjected. "Your mother and I love you, and we have always tried to think of what is best for you, but it is not just ourselves we have to think about, a whole nation out there depends on us."

_Then that is another fracture between us_ because she knew she would choose to save her family in a heartbeat over choosing to save her kingdom. Whoever had prophesied her as the savior be damned because that wasn't her and had never been her from the beginning. The fact that her parents, that her  _mother,_ would do the unstoppable to protect their reign and their realm, and would do the unstoppable time and time again to keep the kingdom safe, just made Emma distant because that wasn't her. She hadn't been born for that. She didn't know what she'd been born for. But being a ruler wasn't it. She was more convinced of that each day that led her closer to her coronation.

"Look honey," Snow took a step forward and Emma took a step back, everything that she was saying sounded irrelevant, sounding farther and farther from a reconciliation, from understanding. "I can see that you are still bitter about our discussion, but as a queen, you cannot let that bitterness play into your decisions. You cannot let ANY emotions play into your decision but what is right and what is wrong, and you need to start understanding that because when you are queen these impulses cannot happen anymore."

She waited for her anger to cool down before responding. It took a few minutes to get to the point that she could control herself to refrain from shouting.

"Mother, I have gone through every etiquette class that you have made me take for the past nineteen years, and I have sat through every class that you have wanted me to so why -"

"Yes, and I don't see any of that etiquette now."

Emma rose her voice. "-SO WHY, can this year not be my choice?"

"I just..." Snow sighed and shook her head, looking at David pleadingly and then at Emma with a confusion and exasperation in her eyes like she was trying hard to figure out what was bringing this on but failing. Emma remained stone and hard on her resolve, the same confusion and exasperation for her mother reflecting inside her; her father just stood awkwardly between them, seemingly caught between his wife and his daughter and appearing to want to break himself in two just so they could both have his support. It made Emma hate herself for making him choose and made her feel guilty for creating this rivalry with her mother and leaving him to pick a side, but then she realized even if he didn't pick her, even if he didn't support her, she would be okay because her decision was set and nothing was going to get in the way of that. "I just don't understand the need for this, Emma, I mean," she closed her eyes and some piece of her wall, of her  _layers,_ crumbled slightly at seeing her so overwhelmed because the sight of it, the knowing she was the reason why she was so overwhelmed stirred up remorse because she'd never truly been on this end. "Sword fighting, I understand -you and your father have practiced before- but officially you want to do this? It's just that, Emma-"

" _Mom,_ " Emma insisted, stepping forward to hesitantly take her mother's hands to help make her  _see_ in some way. "I  _want_ to do this.  Yes, I want to do this officially and there is no hidden motive behind it other than the fact that I want to do this for me. That's it, there's nothing else for you to understand because this is just something that I simply  _want_ to do."

"But Emma," her mother released her hands to cup her face instead and Emma couldn't help feeling that it was half loving and half forceful so she wouldn't try to look away and so she would  _see_ in some way too the same as Emma had tried to do first. "Why?" she whispered. "Misthaven is a peaceful kingdom, and it has been for nineteen years now. There is nothing that is demanding you to learn this, no forthcoming prophecy or war, nothing for you to worry about, nothing to make you feel like you need to do this. You are free to be a princess. You are free to be our daughter, our future queen, the way it was always intended to be, the way it  _should be_. No curse and no evil can take that away now, you are safe."

As Emma listened, it felt like her mother was trying to convince herself and she could only stare back for a minute, mouth clamped shut and at a loss for what to say anymore because what else could she say, what other way was there to make her mother understand?

"You were a bandit before," Emma started and immediately realized it wasn't a good idea by the way her mother sighed and released her face, but she persisted on anyway. "and I don't know, mom, maybe I just want to enhance my skills or," she shrugged. "see if I have ANY skills at all, but I promise it's just that." Snow still seemed to be closed off about it but  _okay, you're listening, that's something at least,_ so Emma continued on. "Look, I just want to try these things, these  _new things,_ that are my choice and mine only. Can you please give me that? Can you please support me in this? It has nothing to do with...everything else you just said."

Snow and David looked at each other and she looked at them, seeming to have some sort of silent mind communication that she guessed came with marriage ( sometimes it freaked her out though how fast they could read one another like it came as second nature, and then it freaked her out more because her heart decided to be a particular type of cruel and remind her how Killian had read her like that...too? _No, no, stop_ ). She dismissed the matter at heart and focused on the matter up front, gauging their expressions in the minute they stood there until Snow nodded and David cleared his throat, sending Emma a smile that, while encouraging, it still made her uncertain until her mother said, "Okay, Emma. We are going to let you do this," she waited patiently, not releasing that breath of gratitude just yet, knowing there was more she wanted to say. Her mother held up one finger. "BUT, with the exception that your etiquette classes will resume and your tutoring on politics will continue for two hours every day that you get home from school. Most of the classes you picked are ill-suited for the demands of your future ruling and you cannot leave the past school years behind, so these are our terms. Do you accept?"

It would be a lot. A lot, a lot. Emma could already begin to imagine the added strain the resumption of her etiquette classes and politics talk for  ( _OH. GOD. WHY_. ) two hours would do with the anticipated difficulty her new classes were sure to bring, but still this was for herself and she needed to cast her doubts away and...for once it felt right to have doubts because then it meant she was about to do something good, something possibly extraordinary, and as cheesy as that sounded, Emma wanted that cheesy extraordinary and good thing.

Emma bowed her head, "I accept."

"Then it's settled!" David said happily and she could tell he was relieved to be at some sort of peace here. Honestly Emma was too even though the tension remained and there would be no getting rid of that so easily.

"I would like to go to my room, may I?"

Snow's brow furrowed. "What about breakfast?"

"I won't take long, I promise," Emma assured her because this time, at least, she didn't want to let go of the fragile peace they had going on. She wanted to hold onto it a moment longer because even if the words hadn't been spoken, the  _I love you_ and  _I miss you_   was floating there. Floating above their grasp but there.

"Okay then."

Emma nodded and turned to make her leave when her mother's voice stopped, "But..before you go, Emma, could we just talk about our argument, and I don't know, just talk about it, honey?"

She heard the hope in her voice, but no, not yet.

"No. Not yet."

 She opened the doors and walked out.

 


	14. A Great Unavoidable

Chapter 14: A Great Unavoidable

Emma did end up going back down for breakfast -eventually.

She took off to her room in quick, hasty steps that indicated her impatience and excitement to anyone that was paying attention, and once the door was closed she raced forward to pull out a sheet of white paper and went through five frustating minutes searching for her black pen before finally finding it abandoned amongst the makeup products in front of her mirror, snatching it from the surface and then taking a running start to land on her bed with a spring up before falling on the pillows, pen and paper still in hand.

' _Dearest friend_ '  was all she'd gotten down before ten ( maybe fifteen ) minutes passed and her brain buzzed with everything she wanted to say, eager to tell someone about this little victory, even though she knew it could be days or weeks before Belle's response got back to her, Emma wanted someone to know. More importantly, she wanted Belle to know about this, and to hear from her, and to have someone -her best friend- tell her that they believed in her and that she could do this and that she shouldn't give up. Although Emma had been telling herself those encouragements and it had taking her a  _long time_ to even begin telling herself those encouragements, she longed to have someone else say it for the simple reassurance that someone was there for her. Even if that someone was miles and a whole different kingdom away.

Of course Emma realized that as much as she loved to read, writing meaningful news in the moment was not her thing because she was too elated and her whole self too impatient to settle down enough to be able to get everything she wanted to say into words and ink and onto the taunting blank page, so she decided that she would leave it at that and give herself time to breathe downstairs to then return with gathered thoughts and a ready hand.

Liam was surprisingly still at the table and upon seeing him she was instantly reminded of Killian who was a stairwell up and hallway close if she wished to go see him and...what?

To talk.

Emma knew it was to talk. Weirdly she wanted to go and talk to him and share with him this small step she had taken for herself because, oddly, she wanted him to know even though she wasn't completely sure why. But after three days she wanted to march into his room and plant herself on his bed again and talk. Their past conversations had been short and quiet and pleasant, if she was to be honest with herself, so Emma guessed that she wanted that again, wanted more safe moments with him before he left. It was out of question, of course, and at the same time she was thinking it she was also fully aware that she wouldn't do it. She wouldn't go. And she didn't. But the fact that Emma wanted to go and had thought of sharing this with him as much as she was going to share it with Belle meant that...he was more than a stranger. At least a little.

This made her a bit uneasy. And nervous. Which is why she had walked extra fast on her way back to her room and not glanced once to where she knew he was, doing who knows what, because it was for the best that some distance be put between them.

Emma wasn't about to break that distance after just three days of it.

Neither would she break it after, because the after was today. Today that he was leaving the palace. Correction, today that he  _and_ his brother were leaving the palace. Emma most likely wouldn't see him or his brother after today, and IT WAS for the best, but it was also annoying how he'd disrupted her life in just a short month, weeks really. Him leaving felt necessary now, in order to get back to before. Whatever the hell  _before_ had been. It had been something, Emma did remember, and it should go back to being that something when he was gone.

The knocking on her door became more insistent and Emma almost growled out her, "I'm going, I'm going" as she spun away from her reflection and practically stomped toward the door with one cerulean colored earring -one of the rare she owned- half dangling from her ear, throwing it open in exasperation, ready to give the guard hell and back a minimum of three times for rushing her so much and have him face her glare and frown because YEAH she was in a bad mood and this idiot wasn't helping-

"Graham," Emma breathed, eyes gone slightly wide because she seriously wasn't expecting  _him_ to be the one behind the knocking and just, it was Graham, in front of her now. Like  _right now_ and uh... "Good morning." she very well did fumble for words, ANY words, brain fully given up on her for that one minute too long until some crap seemed to click in there and the glare disappeared from her face to be replaced with obvious confusion ( because where was her impassive expression when she needed it most? ) and her lips turned upward into a hesitant smile, unsure of where they stood at the moment.

Things hadn't been particularly awkward, they actually hadn't been particularly anything. Not normal for sure but also not...weird. Every time a moment happened -such as the one on the day her magic blew up and Killian got hurt- then it was usually a while before they talked again, before whatever silent distance they decided to go on finally fell away and they talked again. Emma and Graham facing each other as the princess and the guard, their moment having come and gone like the rest, and once again they came back to playing their titles. They hadn't truly spoke, and Emma wouldn't lie to herself about her feelings on that. She was relieved. Grateful for it because she didn't know what to think about him seeing her enter Killian's room that morning - _if_ it even had been Graham watching.

"Good morning, Your Highness," Graham bowed his head and Emma's brows knitted because apparently HIS impassive expression was working since his face remained entirely blank and he offered her no smile, lips set in a tight line as he stood there with his hands clasped behind his back. Standing there like stone. Stone and cold.

It stung.

"Yes...good morning," Emma wanted to know what was wrong. This wasn't like him, and a part of her was ticked that he had brought this on with no reason why, just showing up at her door and putting on this foreign demeanor -or maybe not so foreign. Rare, definitely. But she recognized it from old memories now that they stood here longer with the silence stretching. 

"The king and queen sent me to come ask if you were ready and to safely escort you downstairs where the Jones brothers and your majesties are already waiting," he delivered everything without looking at her directly, fixing his eyes on some point behind her, and she wanted to call him out on being a liar. He was the head of the royal guards now and could have very likely switched places with whomever other had been appointed by her parents to  _actually_ escort her, since Graham was usually hard to find at such speeds. Years had taught her to recognize when someone was lying and  _THIS, Graham, this is it._

He was angry, that much was clear.

Emma could see themselves as children again, memories coming out from their haze and the echoing voice of a younger Emma with shorter curls and a brighter smile that put her missing front tooth on display for the small brown-haired boy that was friend as she came to sit down next to him and asked with her two hands cupping her round cheeks, " _Are you mad at me, Graham? "_ and he automatically responded " _No."_ that even her younger, more oblivious self had known it was a lie even before she came to know his expressions and pay attention to what each of them conveyed and hid and were. Emma could see now that the childhood trait had stuck with him, and it damn well annoyed her to no end, frustated that he could't just come out and say it and put both of them at ease, perhaps have a better morning exchange than the one they were having now -so dry and stiff.

Graham had always been that way though. Where Emma had been impatient and practically bouncing on her feet in anticipation, he had always been calm and maybe a bit more reserved than her sudden outbursts and squeals and highlighted emotions. Of course those days were long gone, nothing in their minds but the resemblance of happier days and sunnier times. Her heart still held a special place for them. Emma had learned to cherish those days and times too late because too quickly she'd learned that those times were too fleeting and future queens did not have the privilege to try to hold on. Eventually you had to let go.

"Actually,"  _I can be angry too._ "I can escort myself. You are dismissed," she pushed past him, letting the door slam shut and feeling a satisfaction when it shook on its hinges, practically running down the hall to get away from him. She did catch the brief look of hurt that crossed his face, but she couldn't bring herself to care when he was being so unfair like when they were children and he refused to tell her why, and he had PURPOSELY come up here just so she could SEE that he was mad.

_Jerk._

Emma made it outside barely containing in her irritation, fresh air only doing her some good when she pushed open the doors and it suddenly hit her face, distracting her for that one second before she strode past the courtyard, giving the guards scattered and stationed about the place only curt nods as actknowledgement but for the most part ignoring them altogether. This was usually the part where her magic tipped, and Emma could feel the tingling sensation all over her body, forcing her for release. She had to calm her magic -more like her emotion- down enough or everyone else would notice her aggravation and start asking questions that she just didn't want to answer for a reason that some annoying little whisper in the back of her head -and heart. Maybe heart- said was beyond Graham and closer to Killian.

In that moment she felt a weird appreciation for the craziness of her magic and that release, because it was something  _necessary_ , despite how bad it was to leave burning imprints and ash on the blades of perfectly green grass she stomped on and have the perfectly stupid statue to her right collapse just for the sake of hearing something fall and break.

Emma saw Liam before anyone else, but as she slowed her anxious footsteps her mother and father became apparent in her sight, sunlight glittering off their golden crowns and the scarce string of diamonds that her mother wore around her neck to compliment the dress embedded with a few jewels of their own.

It was something they shared at least, Emma noted, because she hardly ever wore any diamonds or pearls on her skin too. Her magic was heavy enough to add more to it, exhaustion clutching onto her bones and draining her of what little energy she was able to acquire these days.

The cuff was useless. Snow and Blue's tactic was useless and Emma could NOT WAIT to give the fairy a piece of her mind about it later when they realized this was more damaging to her soul than helpful.

But well that would have to wait because Killian turned in her direction at the same time that her parents did and she had to force herself to smile -even if it was a closed-lipped one.

"Emma, honey! Good, you're here," Snow greeted brightly, giving her arm a gentle squeeze as she came to stand beside her father,clasping her hands together so as to refrain her fingers from visibly twitching or scratching at the intense itch that had finally settled on her way down and that she was more than aware wouldn't die down any time soon.

She felt Killian's eyes on her wrist and immediately spoke up her, "Good morning," to change his gaze elsewhere -except that elsewhere turned out to be her.

Their eyes met for the first time in three days, and Emma quickly looked away, as subtle as she possibly could with being surrounded by three other people, her excuse was nodding politely to the choruses of voices that echoed her 'Good morning'.

 "Well now that Emma is here, I think it's time we start saying our farewells if you want to get there on time," David stepped forward with his arms outstretched, easing both Liam and Killian into their own individual hug, patting them lightly on the back and pulling away with a gentle shake of their shoulder and encouraging smile to then stand beside Emma again and let Snow rush ahead to take them both in a momma bear hug that took both brothers by surprise.

"Remember you are  _always_ welcome here, okay?" her mother said, and Emma swore she was almost close to tears when she did. She wasn't really sure where this was coming from since she hadn't really seen her mother bond or interact with them in some way other than breakfast, lunch, and dinner but then again...Emma had been interacting -a good, PROPER word for it- with Killian behind closed doors, so she wasn't really one to judge on that. Much. Snow was after all very caring and loving.

_Yes, it's why people love her_ , Emma thought, a bit resentful because she wasn't going to be able to meet those standards.

The bar was too high. 

Too '  _We defeated the Evil Queen '_ type of high.

Her mother was sniffing and blinking back moisture when she finally pulled away, both brothers blushing beet red at having gotten such an emotional embrace from the queen and Emma's cheeks almost went red herself from the smile that threatened to unfurl, lips twitching up at seeing Killian suddenly looking sheepish with his hand flying up to scratch behind his ear. Their eyes met again and Killian blushed even MORE, if that was even possible, and Emma flicked her eyes down, up, and pretty much anywhere, in a useless attempt to stop the familiar rush of pink from tainting her cheeks. Luckily Liam was too busy being tongue-tied and her parents too busy looking amused to notice that brief moment between them and  _damn, Killian, stop_ , because his blush was making her blush and she certainly did not need her father becoming curious.

There was something to be said about this little development because it wasn't every day that the princess blushed so easily. Emma actually prided herself on that but apparently that pride was slipping and falling into those blue depths instead.

Get yourself together, Emma, get yourself together.

And she seriously did need to get herself together because now that her mother and father's turns were up, everyone -well not everyone, everyone- had turned to look at her expectantly and she was at a loss, unsure whether a handshake or hug would be less awkward, although both would probably carry the same result.

_Handshake it is,_ Emma thought with a small internal cringe as she stepped forward and extended out her hand. Liam took it firmly, respectfully holding her gaze for those three seconds that seemed to last an eternity and then let go with a bow of his head and quiet "Your Highness," that she returned with a smile that probably looked more relieved than gracious. Emma quickly braced herself but Killian slipped his hands into hers so fast that she didn't even have time to react, and when her mind was finally able to process correctly, all she felt was the familiar warmth she had felt when his arms had been around her and her body had been closely pressed against his, relishing in the heat that radiated off him so naturally. She blinked down, entranced by the way their hands fit so perfectly together, fingers sliding into their spaces without a beat's worth of hesitation, nothing at all like when they'd held hands while dancing so many weeks ago. This was entirely different. And she didn't want to let go yet, but he did, and Emma immediately felt an absence like she needed to hold it again and  _wanted to_ but he had released her and was now bowing his head the same way as his brother had. His next words came so low that even she strained to hear them, 

"My apologies."

Emma stared back, dumbstruck.

She briefly wondered if anyone else had heard but her father had drifted away to give the footman orders about the Jones brothers intended destination, and her mother seemed to have gotten into a conversation with Liam, so it was just the two of them.

It wasn't them two for long because a hand  came at Killian's shoulder and he startled slightly; she startled along with him, as if both shaken out of their momentary trance and brought back to the reality of the warm day and what the carriage was waiting for them meant when Liam said, "It's time we head off, brother." and Killian rendered her one last smile that she was late to return.

The  _one last smile_ echoed in her head, but her focus was on Killian's back as he turned away from her and climbed the steps leading up to the inside of the carriage while a second footman held the door open and provided him with support when he had to bend his head down, causing his waist to bend as well, to be able to get in because of his moderately tall height. She didn't miss the small grimace and low hiss that escaped when he did, and she also did not miss the suspicion in Liam's eyes and the question they seemed to hold.

The footman closed the door once both brothers were safely inside and her father signaled for the gates to open. Snow came to stand beside her but Emma's gaze was on the window where she could only partly see Killian's face, his head leaning tiredly against the solid, translucent glass and the sunlight catching his dark, dark hair and making it appear almost brown with a few specks of red here and there. They both watched in silence as the footman settled on the driver's seat once the other one was on board and then started up the horses with a light snap of the reins and click of his tongue. Soon the carriage was moving farther and farther into the forest. 

Emma looked on until she couldn't anymore, feeling something resembling sadness begin blooming in her chest.

Her mother's voice made her finally blink. "Did you notice that all the bruises on his face were gone?" Snow said, almost absently.

Emma froze.

She was about to respond when her mother shrugged, "Well I guess the creams Doc gave him worked quickly-some sort of magic in them, maybe? That's good, at least."

"Yeah," Emma repeated quietly. "That is good." she let her mother walk back to the palace without her, still standing there even though the carriage was completely out of sight now, staring on at nothing more than a trail that led to town.

She remembered his skin underneath her palms, somehow some part of it still smooth despite the many bruises that made it rough and reduced his natural hue. She remembered the glow emanating from her hands and the warmth that had felt both soft and scorching, how he'd closed his eyes under it and she'd fallen into his pain and hurt as it lessened and lessened until there was nothing left but their foreheads pressed together and their lips only an inch apart.

Emma sighed.  _It was good._

 

* * *

 

 

_She tried to focus on the words but they blurred together in front of her, eyes continuously flicking up to catch the faces and expressions of those around her, seeming to surround her like an army of enemies rather than loyal followers and protectors for the princess._

For me,  _Emma reminded herself, because she was the princess currently unable to get through a paragraph or make sense of a single sentence that was of her favorite book. Except here, it wasn't her favorite book. It was a distraction -_ that is not working.  _She remained unable to get lost in the story as she usually did back home, in the comfort of her library, in a quietness and solitude that was more welcome. That was at least her own making to get by. But_ This.  _This wasn't welcome. She wanted out but she knew the hours still stretched on and there was no way to escape the whispers of conspiration and degration that kept getting passed from ear to ear with her among the mass, knowing that they all centered around her but every time she looked up they just smiled._ Because you have to,  _Emma grit her teeth, anger overriding her for a moment before she visibly slumped against the back of her chair, hating herself for being so weak and sensitive and everything on her features that gave away every bit of defeat she was feeling, both inside and out. But pretending took its toll and this was it. This was the toll, not able to swallow any more fake smiles when it was clear : she would never be accepted._

_Not as a princess. Not as a queen. Not as herself._

_And she understood that._

_"You're a monster," Emma whispered, body twitching like the whispers around her are fingers pinching at her skin. Her own fingers wriggle nervously under the table, out of view, but she was sure they saw it anyway. She was sure they guessed that the tapping of her foot had increased and a horrible, familiar heat was making itself known, flickers and sparks waking up from their dormancy and rising up to threaten both the whispers and her. The natural color of her skin was illuminated with a white-yellowish glow in various parts of her body that weren't covered up by clothing, making her skin look sick and strange. And disgusting._

_Some begun to point, immediately taking note of the increasing development, and she felt her breathing come shaky, whole body trembling with the effort she made to hold back her gathering tears and apologies. Emma shook her head, as if she could fend off their whispers, silently pleading them to stop, to give her a chance, to hear her out, to know it had never been her intention. Their whispers transformed to shouts in her mind and a blinding white light erupted from inside her, knocking her backward and off the chair, filling up the entire lunchroom with its charged power, flickers and sparks invisible in the air but they crackled alive and threatening and ready. Everyone screamed in shock and Emma screamed along with them, moisture finally breaking in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks in utter hopelessness. Her magic anything but beautiful._

_"STOP!" she begged, straining to see in her own light._

_"She did this!" They yelled and Emma turned away, covering her eyes from their fury but it wasn't enough._

_"The princess is a killer!"_

_"No, no, no, you don't understand," her sob escaped and she tried to run but there was nowhere to go, the light keeping her trapped from all directions. "Please, listen to me-"_

_"MURDERER!" They shouted back in unison and she clenched her eyes shut._

_"No!" she protested. "No!'_

"NO!"

"EMMA!"

A hand shook her shoulder with force and her eyes popped open at her name, breathing ragged and with heavy inhales of air that made her chest contrast with it, the palpitations of her heart loud and clear in her ears as her head pounded with a vengeance and her hands desperately touched random parts of her arm, blindly searching for the cuff until her fingers felt the cool leather on her wrist and she pressed down on it, able to slightly breathe more properly when she realized it was there. It took her a few minutes to finally calm down, only vaguely aware that someone was with her but not able to truly focus on that until her breathing finally returned to an even inhale and exhale, pounding fading from her head and with it restoring her senses back to rights again and allowing awareness of her surroundings to take place again, her heart rate coming down to its normal pace and leaving her with the foggy and faint remains of what had been a bad dream. Emma blinked, confused, and still slightly shaken up but not lost enough to not recognize the voice that spoke up behind her. 

"Are you okay, Emma?"

Emma rose up from her chair slowly, eyes raking over the familiar room and its only source of light coming from the dying fire casting dancing flames/shadows upon the old walls and shelves, and the small oil lamp on the upper corner of the desk that her head had been lying atop of its sturdy wooden surface just moments before. She was in the library. She remembered being unable to sleep and sneaking out of her room to seek comfort in books -explanation to why said book was open to page five in front of her and the bottom of its page slightly disturbed, no doubt an indent on her forehead marking it as proof that that was where she had fallen asleep.

A tentative hand touched her arm and she realized it was still dark out, perhaps a few hours left till sunrise but she felt no desire to use those remaining hours to get anymore sleep -unsure if she ever wanted to if what her mind had conjured up was any indication- and have the officially first day of September come sooner that it already was. "Emma?"

"I'm fine, Graham," she replied defensively, stepping out of his grasp and he quickly clasped his hands together behind his back, putting good distance between them and nodding, giving her a quiet, "Yes, Your Highness," in return that she felt herself stiffen against after her dream.

Emma did not miss the transition he'd just done of using her name  _name_ and then addressing her by her station, as if for a moment he had slipped out of his guard persona and decided to be the friend that cared about her. Well she wasn't going to deal with it, even if it was evident he was hoping to reconcile after the last time they had talked -or should she say, exchanged a few short and dry greetings? Deep down Emma did want to know what had caused him to become so peeved with her, but at the same time she also feared it had to do with Killian despite having no solid evidence that he had been the one at the other end of that hallway that morning. The last thing she wanted was to have  _either of them_ in her head right now.

"What are you doing here?" she inquired, spinning around to face him, still a bit distracted by her thoughts but picking up the oil lamp to illuminate both of them.

"I was patrolling the hallways, Your Highness," Graham responded easily. "The doors to the library were partly open and I heard you scream so of course I rushed in. I'm sorry for shaking you so forcibly but you weren't waking up, please accept my apology for the intrusion of touching you without your consent, Your Highness."

The last words were awkward, and she felt the uncomfortableness he was visibly showing just as much as he did.  _Goddamn, Graham, we've hugged before._ But obviously this was not before.

"I screamed?" Emma grimaced.

"Not very loudly," he clarified. "but yes, I heard it. No one else in the palace did though, you're in the clear."

_Good,_ Emma thought with relief. She didn't need any other guards or servants or even her parents catching her at such a vulnerable state -it was bad enough that he had.

"Well thank you for your services, I appreciate the concerns for my safety, but I'll be heading back to my room now," she turned around with the oil lamp lighting her path, feeling numb as she walked out without even waiting for him to bow or return her parting, not interested in keeping up the awkwardness and uncomfortableness longer than was necessary. A numbness that had nothing to do with Graham and everything to do with that dream.

Three days had come and gone in a blur. It seemed that right after Killian and Liam had left the remaining days had come together and silently agreed to move faster, much to her dread and anticipation. It was a weird change she had never truly understood but noticed every year no matter how she tried to distract herself and carry on like there was still warm summer days ahead. In reality summer was coming to its end and there was no way to stall the colder months from proceeding with their arrival or even the first day back to school from happening as it was now. It was exactly what had caused her to climb out of bed and go in search of something to prolong the hours, make them slower, if only to hold onto her summer for a little while longer despite how out of sorts it had been in the past few weeks. Although at the time that she was opening her door and padding her way around the palace she had told herself it was to go in search of something that would make her sleepy, perhaps a cup of tea or...just anything to get her through the hours that were unavoidable and would make the night turn to day. Whether or not she was ready for all of that, Emma had done the past three days to keep her mind away from both the Jones brothers departure and the great unavoidable, it had still been there hovering, more strong and pressing than before :  _School is beginning._ The final year was beginning.

Emma tested the knob. It wasn't locked. She turned the knob as quietly as she could and then gave the door a small push, sighing when it didn't creak or groan in protest. It was a bit stupid really, how she insisted on making no noise even though there was no one else in the corridor and most certainly no one else in the room anymore. It just continued being a guest room, the same as before -except now it contained memories. So maybe not as before. She leaned back against the door for a minute once it was closed, not sure what she was expecting to see but at the same time seeing everything that she expected. Emptiness.

The moonlight streaming through the window onto the empty bed with its perfectly fluffed up pillows and fixed up covers was proof enough. Somehow it appeared more vacant now, all evidence that someone had been sleeping there, resting there, getting better there, now erased. Carefully setting the oil lamp on the nightstand, she took her spot on the bed again and sat in the dark, wondering what she would say right now if they could talk. She didn't bother looking for any personal effects,  _IF_ there even had been any, because then that would just be her adolescent self rising and the last thing she wanted to do in the process of becoming a queen was to start acting like a teenager.

So Emma just sat there, maybe wondering about him.

 


	15. A Blurry Image

Chapter 15: A Blurry Image

Emma groaned, stringing up an impressive line of curses that she should not feel the tiniest bit proud of, but mornings always brought out the worst in her -well, worse than usual. It's not like she was a ray of sunshine and bursts of rainbows and lollipops these days. Particularly  _this_ day; the faint but not so faint pounding of her head that reminded her of her latest life decision and made her question at what time she'd actually ended up falling asleep because it obviously had not been a reasonable hour. So perhaps she could kinda see where her mother got that 'You're just not responsible enough, Emma, and therefore I can't trust you to rule the kingdom yet' from, because apparently Emma was not as free as she thought she was. This summer had surely been the highlight of it. To say that it had been an eye opener, well that was probably putting it lightly considering the many arguments and fights and underlining tension she had going on with her parents, it would almost be offensive to say that it was 'lightly' when lightly didn't even begin to cover it. But what was MORE offensive was that the guard had just straight up stopped waiting for her response and was now just pounding on the door with his fist because THAT was totally going to encourage her to get up and face the day. It did at least encourage her to fling her pillow at the door -her good aim coming out of nowhere since she'd always sort of sucked at throwing snowballs ( much to her competitive side's irritation ) and that had only been half-ass efforts, not full-ass- before her body quickly gave up and she collapsed back onto the mattress with a loud sigh, burrowing herself deeper into the covers and slinging an arm over her eyes to block the too happy, extra radiant sun and its rays from her face, trying with all her might to stand up but also trying with all her might to not do that; the softness of her pillow and bed in general too tempting and effectively reminding her of...

Crap.

She just thought about Killian's chest and that was certainly not a healthy thing to be thinking about in the morning. He was gone. It had just been one night that they'd fallen asleep together and now it seemed like she was scarred for life, all the smallest of details of that night coming alive more than when he had still been here. It definitely was not okay to be remembering how she had been  _very_ pressed up against his chest, practically bathing in his warmth and soaking in his scent -she couldn't pinpoint it at the time but she'd been deluded enough for the word 'sea' to cross her mind. Emma wouldn't take it back though, there had been the faintest smell of sea clinging to his skin and she damn well was never going to admit to anyone that it had been comforting and made her want to take a trip or two to the docks. Then there was also the matter that her nightgown had ridden slightly up throughout those hours and her legs had gotten tangled up with his so that his toes had been unconsciously caressing the skin there. She was pretty sure she'd muffled a giggle at some point because it seriously tickled, and his smooth skin against her had sent pleasant little sparks up her body that had nothing to do with her magic and everything to do with him and his...NOooo. This had to stop! He was gone and yet...no. Ugh, this was her fault. She'd gone and climbed into bed with him thinking ( and hoping ) she would come out unscathed, but her heart was a stupid little thing that liked to dwell on things and drive her to insanity with it.  _This_ was insanity. This...whatever it was, it couldn't continue. Her heart couldn't keep holding onto things that would never be hers. That was the curse of being a princess, wasn't it? You don't get to make your own decisions, your life isn't really your life. Hadn't Emma been reminded of that enough times already?

And woah. Did she just say things that would never be hers? What did that mean? That she maybe wanted Killian to be...?

No. Now Emma DID know she was sleep deprived and just not in her right mind because that was nonsense and quite impossible if she was being honest. Yeah. There was nothing more to it. A lot of things were quite impossible for royalty, but Emma apparently liked to learn the hard way. Friendship and love were high on that list. Ha. Friendship and love were the things stripped away from her the moment she was born, it had just taken her some time to see that clearly. And clearly she did see. To think many craved this life. If emptiness is what they craved then this sure as hell was the place because Emma did feel empty sometimes. She never spoke of that gap out loud but over the course of the years, her purpose and her identity had always felt lost to her, just a big blur of who she was, always caught up in this crossfire of who she was supposed to be and who she was meant to be. She knew there had to be more to her than her being a princess, than being queen, more to herself in general and the fact that she was held back from exploring that, from finding that within herself, was definitely a burden she carried because even on the days when it wasn't on the forefront of her mind, it was still there, hanging in temptation in front of her like yarn was for a kitten, and Emma wanted nothing more than to snatch it and lose herself in writing her own chapters.

"But that is just wishful thinking, Your Highness," she muttered bitterly as she threw the covers off and slid out of bed, her bare feet touching the smooth red carpet serving as a strange, reality snap when she could compared it to her life being laid out ahead of her and plans being made without her. This was too much thinking, and her  _guard_ was doing too much knocking, but since she was Emma and a grouchy Emma right now, she simply ignored him and let him continue ripping his hair out while she calmly sat down to face her mirror and figure out what she was going to do with the bags under her eyes that were making themselves very, very present these days. It was odd Snow hadn't commented on it yet, but deep down Emma knew that she wouldn't tell her the real reason anyway if she did, and maybe her mother knew that too so that's why she didn't bother anymore. The same way she didn't bother to come help her get ready this morning.

It wasn't even about getting ready, it was about her mother being right there from the start until she saw her away for her first day just like she'd done every year. Emma had always complained about it goodnaturedly  _'I think I am capable of brushing my own hair, mom'_ and her mother had always just laughed that watery laugh and looked at her with those glassy eyes like she couldn't quite believe that she was truly here and with her. Emma had always known that there was some deeper and more emotional reason why her mother insisted on helping her choose what dress to wear and what earrings to go along with it, but for Emma, it was an assurance of some kind, that her mother would always be there every step of the way so that when her mother leaned down to whisper ' _I know'_ before planting a soft kiss on her forehead and straightening up to tuck a loose curl behind her ear, Emma didn't protest because she secretly loved this moment where her mother was just her mother and everything else fell away to something beyond her door. Something beyond her duties and responsibilities and having the weight of a kingdom on her shoulders.

Emma cherished those moments. Maybe they held a greater value and meaning in her heart than she had suspected. At least enough value and meaning for it to hurt when her mother didn't walk through that door today. She half expects not to see her for breakfast either, and if a part of her feels hurt by it then she tries to stamp it down and make her fake smile a bit more real because today of all days is not the time to show weakness.

That is one thing that will always stick with her now. Don't let your guard down and you will never get hurt. 

Emma briefly wonders how her parents do it. They don't seem to wear masks, and she sort of begrudges them for it. Her parents have the ability to have such strong hope that it's almost frustating sometimes, and meanwhile she clings on to this facade like it's a lifeline. It probably is. Various times its crossed her mind that she's just scraping by, surviving if you will. Not truly living. Emma doesn't understand why it hits her most now since its always been this way. She supposes back then the future seemed too far away and now it feels like it's breathing down her neck, right around the corner and the pressure of a crown on her head making it hard to think clearly. Having chosen her classes doesn't seem to make a difference because after all, becoming queen will not be removed from the cards. So no matter how much she shapes herself, no matter how much of herself she is able to find, it will not make the future any less different because everyone, just seems to take it upon themselves to hold the pen to her story. And what did she even hope to find anyway? Courage? Strength? Hope, maybe? It feels like such a naive dream now, thinking that by choosing her own classes it would somehow help her gain control of her life and maybe even help her figure out who  _Emma_ wanted to be. Just Emma. No princess Emma, no queen Emma, no titles, none of that other crap. God monarchies really messed you up. Or maybe she was the problem. Either way-

"You look beautiful, Emma!" her mother said, and it was a genuine smile that greeted her at the table.

-and either way, for better or for worse, she was going to do this. The insecurities were just...eating away at her a bit.

"Thank you, mother," Emma kindly responded, and her small smile probably gave away how at war she was with her appearance because she also kind of cringed under the compliment as she took her seat.  _I did try,_ but truthfully it had taken up a lot more time than Emma was comfortable with in spending on clothes, and of course when she finally came to a decent decision to put herself out of her misery, it was a light blue dress that may or may not have reminded her of Killian's eyes. That was just stupid, but she put it on anyway. She seriously wondered if it was just her subconscious trying to tell her something but then said to hell with her subconscious and those very, very blue eyes because they knew nothing and it meant nothing.

"Are you excited for your first day?" David softly inquired, and she could tell that they were both threading carefully, afraid to be repelled by her and therefore trying to appear nonchalant -well, at least her father was because Snow seemed to have something on her mind and right on the tip of the tongue too but was valiantly trying to conceal it by stuffing herself with bread. Emma knew that face and did a  _valiant_ effort herself to not roll her eyes in exasperation and begin tapping her foot, instead biting her lip to keep her snappiness in check. It wasn't her mother's fault that she hadn't gotten enough sleep and that she sort of hated the world right now. Emma knew this, but she couldn't help feeling grumpy and annoyed and in one of those moods where she just wanted everyone to back off and allow her to eat this blueberry muffin in peace. Blueberry muffin -the only joy in her life. This day was supposed to start off better, but fatigue and that  _nightmare_ had drained her of any better. She couldn't very well sleep after that, only curling up into a ball on Killian's bed for who knows how many hours until something told her she should probably go back to her room and curl up into a ball there if she didn't want chaos in the morning and have Grumpy's ass running up and down the halls yelling 'The Princess is missing! The Princess is missing!" Oh she had definitely learned her lesson that one time and DID NOT want a repeat of that. Snow was obviously not happy about this and even though Emma's hurt at her absence had turned into a little bit of anger, they were both being unfair with each other at this point, and so if Snow was quite literally trying to maintain her sanity then Emma would try to. For now they were at a truce -and look at Emma being all diplomatic and stuff.

Ugh. 

She needed sleep.

And another blueberry muffin.

Thank God the second was available - _Oh Red, a million blessings to you._

"Easy on the muffin, Emma, it's not gonna go away," David teased, and Emma blushed in embarrassment, only half hearted in attemping to wipe away the crumbs stuck on the side of her mouth, and she thanked whoever was keeping track of her life up there that Liam and Killian were not here to witness this. Liam had already left with a poor opinion of her, she doubted this would make it any less glorious. "Hey, what's wrong?" a warm hand being placed on top of her shoulder snapped her out of her trance and Emma blinked.

"Hm?"

She realized she had been staring at her half-eaten muffin for a good two minutes, and that definitely sent alarm bells to both her parents about her ability to be attentive. That was something that could come back to bite her in the ass during state meetings that would sooner rather than later start popping up in her schedule. God she was so distracted today. The trip to the docks kept sounding more and more fascinating. That's really what she needed. Time to reflect and contemplate, just think everything out loud and have it all thrown in the air for her to make sense of . Of course that would have to wait too -a lot of things would have to wait now.

"I asked how you were, you just appear very thoughtful today," her father's eyes search her face and understanding dawned over his. He knew the right thing to do, and just squeezed her arm in reassurance, smiling softly at her and nodding once. Emma couldn't feel more grateful for that. His actions having a calming effect on her and soothing away some of the worry enough for her to open up and be honest with him. These kind of moments reminded her how easy it was to talk to him.

"I'm just nervous, I guess," Emma shrugged, poking at her muffin with her fork and still trying to hold onto indifference to not give away just how much the nerves were eating away at her resolution. It was such a vain attempt when her father had clearly seen through her efforts to appear natural -but OBVIOUSLY making out with her muffin and staring at it afterwards was not natural....or normal, and please, please,  _please_ let that not be another weird subconscious message! - and her mother was probably well on her way to noticing it too, hence the reassuring squeeze on her arm.

"I think that it is a perfectly okay thing to be, Emma," David says, and it makes her feel like a child all over again in a surprisingly good way and probably in the way that she just needs to feel right now, but she won't admit that. 

"Really?" she asks a little wide-eyed, and the uncertainty is evident in her voice.

"Really," her father nods.

 "Nervous means you care," Snow says quietly, and despite their many differences that is probably a mile long, Emma returns her smile because she does care. They both do, and perhaps that is also something she needed to know to help keep the worry at bay.

They don't talk after that, but the silence isn't uncomfortable. It's actually companionable. But then breakfast ends up passing too quickly and soon their plates ( more like empty one ) are being cleared away, and she is handed her cloak -blessedly, it's her black one; she wants to be the least bit noticeable as possible. Her title already makes it hard enough- to help fend off the slight breeze that is now beginning to appear and hinting at her favorite season. She is led outside, and a carriage is waiting in front of the open gates to take her into town and deliver her to the Golden Building with at least ten guards, five on each side, following closely on their trail. Emma wants to make a comment on how so many guards isn't really necessary if she's just going to school, but Snow always made it seem like she was traveling halfway across the world, so she finds no use in arguing and just goes with it because she'll have to anyway. When it's time to step into the carriage, Emma turns to her parents and exchanges chaste hugs with them both because despite still being at odds, she still craves their comfort, especially on a day that feels so momentous even if it's probably first day jitters speaking, and when her father whispers in her ear " _It'll be a good day, I promise"_   she feels a little bit of that wall that she's kept up for the past few weeks crumble at hearing that it will be okay when she closes her eyes and nods, holding onto him for a second longer before letting him go because she can also hear the " _We will be right here when you get back"_ in between the lines and that ensures her that she can get through this, fatigue and itchy wrist and all. 

She briefly wonders as the palace becomes farther and farther from view and they ride deeper and deeper into the woods, how Killian and Liam are doing and how they feel about their unknown, but it's only briefly. Because she has her own unknown to think about. 

 

* * *

 

 Emma's first three classes of the morning pass steadily. She was prepared for them, of course, having spent the last remaining days of the summer gathering tidbits of information from what the library's books could provide her with, small overviews of the subjects and taking a few notes to bring her some understanding of what was to come, but unfortunately her personal library wasn't very vast on mathematics -and that was by no accident. 

It was one of the many other things that her and Belle had shared in common : their persistent hatred for the world of geometry, calculus, and algebraic math that had brought on a variety of headaches and grumblings and a long list of complains -mostly from Emma because Belle always seemed to have  _some_ sort of comprehension upon their problems, compared to Emma who only thumped her head against the table and let out a loud, suffering sigh the first few minutes in- that had made up their afternoons for at least two hours a day, trying to wrap their brains around the numbers and systems and theories that came along with solving and finding the value of X and measure of that, and all the things that in the end made Emma seriously want to raise hell on whomever invented this and thought it was okay to just dump this load of crap on her like her intelligence reached far enough to get through this weird topic. It made Emma a bit dejected when she remembered those afternoons, full of laughter and smiles and sharings of each other's day squeezed in between their studying and reading and answering, and caused a successful pang of longing to hit her when once again, in who knows how many times now, she was reminded that she would have to go through this alone, without Belle -or simply a friend- to lighten the mood and make the time spent on homework a little more enjoyable. Emma tried not to linger on it too much -the day wasn't even halfway done yet, there'd be plenty of time for sulking about it later- as she sat with her hands clasped firmly under the desk, thumbs playing worriedly with each other and her foot's anxious tapping hidden underneath by the skirt of her dress.

She supposed she should have been more defiant in her advisor's suggestion -and decision basically, since hello, she's here now- to take mathematics in the morning, but she'd been too focused on picking what called out to her that she'd just sort of agreed and said whatever to it, at the time thinking it would be better to just get this particular subject out of the way. Scratch that. She'd learned quickly enough that that particular subject was a good way to  _ruin_ the morning with all the frustations and stress that came with simply being there, but it was a necessity and she couldn't very well ignore it forever -although those two months of break without mathematics had been heaven and blueberries all by itself- seeing as her future was already dictated and becoming queen as well, you know, gonna happen anyway. She would need to have knowledge of mathematics to some extent, enough to not accidentally send the kingdom into relapse every time she did her numbers wrong -and God help her with that because the second time wasn't the charmer, and it damn not wasn't the third time either. Or fifth.

The sleep deprivation she'd been feeling strongly when she woke up slowly faded away after her first two classes, and by the third she was painfully alert with every sense screwed on in place and quite effectively enhancing her nerves to another level. The brunch hour would arrive for everyone at exactly 12:00 PM, the same as it was every year, carried out after your third class and giving you sixty minutes to retain some sanity, but this was usually Emma's most dreaded part of the day. At least, sadly, now it was. She chastised herself for lacking the confidence to just plant her ass in a chair and glue it there without feeling the slightest bit uncomfortable sitting by herself, but really it was moments like these that reminded her that despite being a princess, she'd never really had the best self-esteem. It was awkward already with one guard standing outside the classroom ready to trail behind to her next, armed and all, and with students rising up to bow deeply to her upon her entering and leaving of the room. This was when she was most put aside, and Emma remembered the tears that had sprung up to her eyes at the age of thirteen when no one had wanted to sit with her because they were too intimidated by the tiara on her head, and more importantly, the invisible crown hovering above her, marking her as the future queen and making it clear to even the most innocent of onlookers that one day their lives would be in her hands -to care for or to destroy.

Emma wanted to care. Emma DID care. But it felt as though she'd grown up alone, blocked from all the simplest privileges that life could offer, and that she had no idea she'd been missing out on until she'd woken up in Killian's arms and realized that he had held her as  _Emma,_ and not a princess. Simply and only Emma. Simply and only her. Suddenly she was thinking of all that had been shut away from her since birth, closed off in her face the more she grew and the more she learned. Slowly landing on her that she could never have a normal life or what consisted of it. Freedom. Happiness. Understandment. Simplicity. Oh she could have glimpses of it, maybe, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to just be Emma because even her parents didn't think of her as just Emma. They also only saw a princess in the morning, and before that a Savior too, and then afterwards they would only see the queen.

It was hard to keep track of who she saw in the mirror every morning. Sometimes all there was was a blurry image. What was she to do with that? How was she to fix that? 

All this horrible thinking made the smile she had in place almost drop to a frown as she moved through the path her classmates -but somehow always  _subjects,_ Emma decided then that she hated the word- had made for her when they spotted her coming from a distance and the guards had strictly demanded "Step aside for the Princess!". Emma had accidentally winced at that part, not particularly fond of making them seem lower or feeling any remoteness of satisfaction watching how they rushed to press themselves against the wall so she could go inside first. Her mother would have gently chided her for wincing, reminding her that this was okay because it was a sign of respect, but it would be chiding nonetheless. And Emma didn't agree -which would no doubt earn herself another argument with her mother because when the hell did it not? She hadn't truly done  _anything_ to earn their respect, so how could her mother use that as a way of comforting her? In the darkness of her room, Emma would go as far as to say she wasn't truly worthy of it. Because really she was nothing but the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, the ones who had brought an entire kingdom back to life with their love and their never ending good. They were the heroes. Emma wasn't. Emma was simply a name on a thousand pieces of paper, but that was it.

A piece of paper was nothing. 

Meant nothing. Just like words without action, they were meaningless. 

Crossing the threshold and seeing the white room in all its spotless glory, her nightmare came alive and Emma suddenly found it hard to breathe, all the accusing voices that sounded too familiar to the ones that belonged to her classmates were suddenly a roar in her ear, and was she dreaming again or-

"Your Highness?"

Another light tap on her shoulder and Emma's head snapped to the guard standing beside her. She blinked and shook her head, unsteady and dazed between dreams and reality, her eyes slightly stinging with the tears that had immediately rushed to the surface but that she didn't allow to fall. Somehow she still managed to answer with a grave, "Yes?" Even to herself she sounded lost and confused, and that in harsh words, was seen and was weakness. Emma couldn't afford it.

The guard who'd in a way saved her from having a panic attack in the middle of lunch merely pointed to the glass doors that led outside where picnic tables sat and where a familiar young man stood waiting. When he looked and caught her eye, he waved and her face broke out into a smile at the same time his did.

"August?!" Emma breathed, a little unsteady on her feet now but bloomed out of disbelief than the prior reason, her green eyes having widened in surprise and switching her attention from August to the guard in question, her heart beating happily at seeing her friend when she'd felt so friendless today, and her mind welcoming the distraction he brought to her otherwise dark cloud.

"Sir August requests your presence for lunch, Princess."

Emma didn't need anymore telling than that; she all but rushed to open the glass doors and burst out into the chilliness of September to throw herself into his arms, capturing him in an unexpected hug, exactly how a royal was not supposed to show acceptance of a request but to hell with that! August was here!

"Woah," August chuckled and tried to right his footing as he brought one arm around her and hugged her back just as fiercely, almost crushing her small form into him if it weren't that it seemed like she was crushing him instead with the strength she'd always possessed and that she had not the faintest clue about. "It's nice to see you, Emma."

Emma laughed, "You too, you have no idea, but how are you?" she released him and took a small step back, allowing him to breathe even as she wanted to hug him again in all her excitement. "I'm sorry we didn't see much of each other this summer, but why aren't you at work? And how's Marco doing? We missed him at the ball, and you too, you should have come."

August smiled but Emma noted it carried a bit of melancholy. "Come, let's sit, Princess."

Unlike with August, she welcomed his addressment of 'Princess' with open arms. There was friendship there.

They settled across each other on one of the picnic tables as the four guards positioned themselves around the area, far enough to give them some privacy but Emma wished there was a way to cover the glass doors from the ones inside. She decided to not let that ruin her lunch time with anymore unease and instead focused on August who was looking at her like he couldn't quite figure her out.

"What?" she asked and it accidentally came out a little more defensive than she'd meant to.

He shrugged and smiled again, undeterred and leaning forward with his elbows. "Nothing, it's just...something seems off with you, are you okay?"

She sighed and she hated how tired it sounded before anything even truly began. "Yeah, it's just stress, I guess. First day back and all. Final year too..." she mumbled and trailed off, absently stroking the fine wood of the table's surface that had been built by August and his father, a gift to the new school the King and Queen were opening nineteen years ago, or so she'd been told. A symbol of their gratitude to the crown and friendship to her parents in general.  _They are nice,_ she admired. Made by their own hands.

"Oh so that's what it is," August fixed her with a knowing look before she could start protesting. "Pressures of becoming queen?" he put it as a question but she knew he could tell by her expression and small huff that it was that.

"Maybe..." she admitted but only barely.

He tilted his head. "And why is THAT of all things worrying you right now?"

She could almost scream at the slight disbelief with which he said it, like he couldn't quite understand why that was a problem. Maybe not to him, maybe he thought this was exactly how it was supposed to be, how it was supposed to go, and he understood that, but she couldn't quite accept it. Some days it actually felt suffocating and crushing. Today was one of those days. "What do you mean why, August?! It's my final year and- " she quickly cut herself off and reminded herself to breathe, not wishing to waste their time together arguing.

He was quiet for a minute, giving her the time she needed to retain her bearings. When he did choose to speak again, it was with sympathetic eyes and she suddenly didn't want to have this conversation anymore. Not if feeling bad for her would be involved. "Look, Emma, you always knew it would come to this, didn't you? From the minute you were born and your mother and father found a way to stop the Evil Queen before she could hurt you, hurt  _all_ of us in the process, you were always going to become the Queen of Misthaven when that rightful age came. And now it has come," he smiled softly and continued, " This is the last thing you need to be afraid of, Emma. The world is full of much more ugly dangers than having a crown placed atop your head."

She scoffed, though it wasn't from rudeness but regret. "You don't get it."

He only looked at her for a moment while she fixed her gaze on points behind him, straining to hear the sea, her heart still set on going there after all this was through and done. He began speaking at the same time she finally began imagining the waves, having forgotten what they look like. "You know, when the curse about to strike, I was tasked with something by my papa."

This caught her curiosity. Emma had never been told of such task; her parents never mentioned such task. But then again they rarely ever spoke of that time.

"What was it?" Emma whispered.

August looked directly into her eyes and said, "I was protect you." he straightened up slightly and continued with the utmost earnest, "I was to protect you, Emma, the second you went through that wardrobe and so did I, I was to help you believe, I was to be your guide, and I was to take care of you until the time came that you had to break the curse. In truth, we would have had to face the world together."

"And?" she asked tentatively, sensing there was more.

"And," he sighed. "I don't know what would have happened. But I made a promise to my papa that I would protect you, Emma, and despite neither of us having gone through that wardrobe, I intend to keep that promise, so you know that as queen, I will do my best to keep you safe and to stop any harm from coming your way. Not only because you will be my queen, but also because you are my friend. Honestly neither of us has been very good at making friends, but I'm happy you are mine."

Emma's lip trembled and she blinked back tears. "Thank you, August," she covered his hand with hers as a deeper sign of her gratitude for still being considered his friend after so much pain her magic had put him through. She refrained from wiping her eyes; that wouldn't be subtle and heaven knew she didn't want people seeing the vulnerable princess. She had trouble with that part of her as it is. So forcing herself to laugh, she said, "Okay so enough about me. How have you been?"

 

* * *

 

 

The rest of the day passed fast and at the same time not. The remaining hours dragging but not. After lunch and with the company of August, the fear seemed to subside with the worst part of the day over. She said see you soon to August with the promise of going to visit some time close although she wasn't sure when that would be possible, and another hug, trying to savor it for all the days she wouldn't be able to see him. She ended up falling asleep on the carriage ride home and therefore wasn't able to request a stop at the docks like she'd been thinking about all day, even for only a few minutes at best. She was disappointed when she woke and was quickly ushered to her  _other_ classes her mother had decided on as part of their agreement. Dinner happened late, and by the time Emma was finally able to drop down on her bed she fell asleep without a moment's wait, falling into a deep slumber that offered her no dreams -good or bad. She was only briefly roused up when the faint feel of someone kissing her forehead and a voice whispering " _Goodnight, honey"_ seeped into her thoughts and registered, but otherwise she did not awaken anymore.

In the morning Emma came to terms that this was how it would be from here on out.

Each day draining her.

Maybe even stealing small pieces of her along the way.

 


	16. A Clear Longing

Chapter 16: A Clear Longing

**_Two months later..._ **

 

The comb's teeth gently sifted through Emma's hair, successfully untangling the bits of strands that had gotten nastily knotted up during the day, but more importantly the brushing succeeded in bringing her peace of mind, all thoughts of the chaos and stress and the bleeding of days into weeks that was her life falling away as she simply concentrated on the up and down of the comb and then repeat.

She was appreciative to have found this one quiet moment in the mist of it all. Emma tried not to think about it, but it felt like an echo of her future and she wondered just how many quiet moments she would have if this one alone had been hard to come by. Growing up Emma had seen much of her parents, even getting lucky enough as to be spoiled by their love and constant affection, and she knew compared to other royals, they hadn't had the same fortune as she'd had. The children of other kings and queens rarely ever getting a true heart to heart talk from their parents or a simple goodnight kiss on the forehead, always putting the running of a kingdom as an excuse for the lack of closeness, lack of mother and fatherly love. This pained her because Belle had once spoken of such growing up, one day in the library sharing in a sorrowful voice how her father had been so heartbroken after her mother's death that he had thrown himself into ruling the kingdom to escape his grief, and in a way pulled away from seeing the daughter that reminded him so much of the wife and the queen he had lost. The relationship between Belle and her father had been left strained, but Emma could see the hesitant love there, and though Belle had been stronger than her father by holding onto the good memories of her mother with her love for books, it was still sad for Emma to know that deep down there was a hole in Belle's heart that no one would be able to replace because only her mother could fill it. And while the king had fed the hole in his own heart with anger and distrust of certain creatures, and a hollowness that showed in the slight downfall of his eyes, light faded where he had once been full of mirth and had had the capacity to create and invent new things, now there was only a constant sunkenness in his face's features as if it had always been there and was permanently etched there for the rest of his days. Belle instead had found a way to move on with the pain and not let it dwindle whatever love she had, and if that wasn't strength then Emma didn't know what was.

Emma honestly wasn't sure if she would have the same courage as Belle.

And despite the fact that her own relationship with her mother and father had begun to fall apart somewhere along the years, the love and affection they had never failed to give her as a child would forever be in her memories, alive and a spark of hope when she needed it most. These days Emma constantly went back to her memories, seriously wondering where they'd went wrong.

"Your Highness?" she registered the tentative knock and recognized the quiet voice that belonged to one of her maids. It annoyed her to have her silence broken by that tentative knock, almost like it had burst through the fragile bubble she had managed  to put around herself, the water falling at her feet and soaking her with the knowledge of tomorrow and the promise of more drained filled days. Maybe even a draining future.

Emma desperately needed release. Her life now wasn't the only thing responsible for the state of her haggard and dazed appearance. A quick glance to the ever-present cuff on her wrist reminded her of the magic just simmering below the surface, just below her skin, and she felt its impatience in the form of its furious itch that sprung up hot tears to the forefront of her eyes and overruled every other sense. It was hungry and dangerously angry from so many weeks of captivity, and Emma couldn't deny remembering now and then the last time her magic had been free.  _With him._

It wasn't wise to do that. Remembering the last time meant remembering him, and Emma most certainly avoided that.

She shook her head -the motion causing her dizziness-and said, "Come in."

The door opened shortly after and Emma struggled to keep herself together as she watched the young girl rapidly approach in the reflection of her mirror. When she reached her, the girl respectfully curtsied and Emma was careful to not let her eyes waver from her and accidentally land on her own face. She'd stopped looking weeks ago.

"I'm sorry for the interruption, Princess Emma, but a letter from Princess Belle arrived a few minutes ago. I'm told the messenger has already left, a bit urgently because he was needed back at his kingdom for other matters he didn't share."

"That's fine," Emma breathed and spun around in her seat, very much giving away her relief and immediately forgetting all about the combing when she took the letter and quickly inspected the seal to make sure it was hers. Sure enough it was from Belle's kingdom and her excitement grew bigger, ripping it open and revealing the page written in black ink that she almost thought wasn't coming. Exactly two months and a week had been since she'd sent her own letter, the longest Belle had ever gone without responding back and to say she had started to worry was an understatement. "You may go now, thank you."

Emma waited until the girl had done her curtsy and closed the door shut behind her to finally begin reading, anxious to know if something was wrong, and aside from that, it had been too long since she'd heard of her best friend -or  _anyone_ she cared for.

_Dear Emma,_

_I'm sorry it's been so long since the last time we talked. I'm excited to hear about how your final year's been going, hopefully better than mine. I entered in September curious and intrigued for my classes, and willing to have an open mind to becoming queen -for the sake of my mother at least. I constantly tell myself that if she could do it then so can I, and we were alike in many ways. I miss her dearly, more so than usual. My father on the other hand, I never imagined us having so many disputes, but everyday it's something new and stressful and adding onto the list of all the other things we disagree on, and it feels like there is no ending in sight. I can't even read in peace, and it tires me. My father and I are more far away from mending the relationship like I secretly hoped this would do, bring us closer together. Instead it feels like everyone is out to control my life. I constantly think about the times when I was blessed to be in Misthaven and going into the Golden Building, or 'Golden Torture' as we liked to call it. Those were the best memories._

_That's why it pains me to tell you that I won't be attending the upcoming Masquerade Fall Festival. Have you figured out your costume yet? That was always the fun part. I will miss that, especially since this year my kingdom won't be celebrating anything of the sort. Despite how good plantation's been, my father is still oddly wary. I don't understand why, I keep trying to speak to him about it at dinner or breakfast or any time of the day where I can see him without his advisors, but he rarely ever shows up for such simple things now. His presence is scarce and I know something is wrong, I just don't know what. I fear to know. But Emma, I know you have your own complications with your family, and from what you told me in your last letter I know your magic plays a big role in it even though you specifically lacked in mentioning it thoroughly. I'm not sure of how you've been dealing with your circumstances, but do not let that be the cause of a gap between your and your parents. You know above all King David and Queen Snow are good people, as are you. And magic can be good too._

_Just a few days ago my father introduced me to a prince named Gaston. I do have my suspicions for why he is here, but I don't wish to dwell on it in this letter, and he should be leaving soon so it's probably nothing of importance. There's nothing calling him to come to our kingdom, no need for aid that I'm aware of. Apart from my father's foul mood, everything does seem to be fine and in place. The meeting was rushed anyway. But like I was saying, a few days ago he and I were reading about magical objects that can be used for good. (It came to me as a surprise too that he would show interest in reading, I assume it was just to impress me but I do dare say it felt as if we had a moment of connection or...I don't know) and we went on this small adventure together in search of a mirror. The mirror reveals the evil in a person's soul, if there is any at all. When you gaze upon it, your eyes will either change to a hellish fire or remain the same._

_I have faith that yours will remain the same. You aren't evil, Emma, and your magic is most certainly not a cause of darkness. But only you can believe that, I can't make you. That's why I'm sending the mirror to you, as a gift, and so that maybe you find trust in yourself to see what I see. Maybe even seek those who see the same as I. We both know this habit of visiting the sea didn't come out of nowhere. I won't say his name here, but just know that it's okay to care, Emma. It doesn't have to be deep, it can be innocent and above all it's your heart's decision. YOUR decision. I still believe nobody can control my fate. That also means nobody can control my heart._

_But back to the mirror, I don't truly remember who told me this once, but it goes 'So when you look in the mirror and you don't know who you are, that's who you are'. You know who you are, my dear friend, magic or no magic, even if sometimes you forget. I hope the mirror helps you fill out those in-between's. In the meantime, take care and write me back soon!_

_Sincerely,_

_Belle._

 

Emma closed her eyes and took a deep breath, so many emotions coming at her at once that she can't pick one. From Belle's problems with her father to her not so subtle hints of Killian and to her own current challenges in the year of lacing yourself up to be queen that almost resembled Emma's demise, she just needed a moment to think. A moment.

Moments, moments, moments. What she wouldn't give to have more of those back. With whom, well that's up for debate. She hasn't kept all these  _whatever_ they are, harboring feelings of care maybe, only to let them out now. They would have to remain a secret that only her dreams could be aware of. That was the only time where she wasn't in control of her mind, and it wasn't exactly a good thing when her subconscious led her back to his arms. The memory of their night together was faded but somehow in her dreams it came alive again, more bright and beautiful. She was always disappointed when she woke up only clutching the pillow a little tighter than usual, a sign that her heart and body craved the shelter of his embrace again. But that was it. She didn't let herself dwell on it deeper than those few minutes she was awake before the knocking on her door alerted her to a new day. It annoyed her to say the least, that her guard came down for him. Or to put it in less romantic terms, that she felt enough  _trust_ to let her guard down when she had specifically told to his face that he didn't know what trust was. And then what happened? She was able to freaking heal him and that alone had felt so good but not as good as being so close to him that her breath mingled with his, and if one of them had move a little, the slightest bit, that small gap would have been gone and all there would have been was his lips on hers.

Emma couldn't even begin to imagine how his kiss would be like.

Damn this was wrong, she shouldn't even want to imagine his kiss, shouldn't even keep going back to that night, or secretly continue to wish to know about his well-being or life in general. Why should she anyway? He'd probably already forgotten, two months was plenty of time to put distance and forget, so why hadn't she forgotten yet?

The only thing she'd managed well was distance. It seemed like she was an apt pupil for that these days.

But something was wrong.  _Felt_ wrong.

The letter had sounded...rushed. She'd seen Belle write before and the time and precision she took was the opposite to what these small splotches of ink over some of the words were showing, along with the slight crumple at the edges and how much the paper had been folded -three to four times was her guess. Maybe Emma was just overseeing things along with all of her overthinking; the night wasn't young anymore and the evening had long since worn off so maybe it was just her fatigue springing up all of these wandering thoughts. But she couldn't shake it off even as her mind in her sleepy state drifted back to Killian and how the hell Belle had been able to figure out that it was him she was speaking about when she briefly mentioned her new habit of going to the docks. It was embarrassing how easily Belle had read between the lines, was Emma really that obvious? If she thought about it hard enough she would to the conclusion that the sea reminded her of him,  _his eyes,_ and maybe that's why she was so drawn to going there aside from the fact that it helped her think, steadied her in the fast moving chaos of her days -something Killian had done too. Steady her. 

Crap. It all reflected back to her feelings, didn't it?

Emma shook her head, refused to actknowledge that, refused the whatever she had for him, and proclaimed that they would fade away with more time, more months. She resolved to write her response tomorrow, and she would make sure to avoid any more about her visits to the docks. Like the one she had yesterday.

 

* * *

 

 By the position of the sun in the sky that she guessed to be in its descend, and the splash of delicate pinks, oranges, and purples mixing in with the rays of light quickly falling into the dark navy hue of the night, they should be returning by now with the proximity of sundown.

A small smile tugged at her lips and Emma quickly looked back at her tutor and feigned understanding on what she was currently talking about, nodding and mumbling 'yes' a couple times before she abruptly stood up and regretted it immediately, grimacing at her stiff joints and her stupid leg that had fallen asleep somewhere in the one hour and thirty minutes that wasn't even  _close_ to marking their time to an end. 

"Will you excuse me for a moment?"  _or a lifetime because your enthusiasm with history is killing me and there is only so many 1977 problems I can take._ They'd recently entered the topic of the Evil Queen's rule and to say that she didn't get chills running up her spine every time she realized this was her potential  _grandmother_ that had slaughtered thousands to destroy her parents happiness and tortured millions of others and then ALSO meant to cast a curse that would keep everyone froze in time, was an understatement of the finest. Emma couldn't even begin to fathom what living under those years was like, but she could understand why her parents would forever be named the King and Queen who saved entire generations and brought forth the ' Golden Era ' as they liked to call it. Some myths around the name saying that it was based on Princess Emma's golden hair because when she was born, people claimed the light and color was fully restored throughout the kingdom and spread beyond, the opening of her eyes blooming thousands of flowers and crops back to life and everyone dead given the ability to breathe their former painful last breath in content. The child's first cry erupting millions of animals to bow down and call out their thank you in unison; the birds of all species joining together to create Emma's name in the sky for days until her official coronation, and some even saying that they'd felt the power of her magic so strong and beautiful that they'd actually  _cried_ and dropped everything to fall to their knees and shout out ' _All hail the Golden Princess!'._

Emma didn't know if any of that was true; she was almost afraid to find out, have it confirmed that people AND earthly creatures too had thought so highly of her that they'd done all THAT, believing so hard that she was the one who had saved all their happy endings and started a new beginning in their history books. It was almost too much for her to sit still and listen to, IT IS too much for her to take in and all she wants to do is breathe for a second. More than once Emma has squirmed uncomfortably in her chair and she just needs to move, the familiar feel of needing to  _run,_ returning again, but right now she can't do that so she'll settle for stepping out of the room for a few minutes and...heading off to the stables before the sun sets.

The woman is too distracted in riffling through her notes for upcoming topics and too lost in her own babbling to shoot away Emma's request and doesn't even glance up at her spot suddenly vacated, making her escape far too easy. Emma knows she can't do this so often or word will get back to her mother about the princess's lack of attention and lack of educational persistence, but she honestly only slips away Tuesdays and Thursdays, and even then it's only sometimes so it doesn't hurt, right?

It certainly doesn't do her good either.

Outside the wind blows sort of angrily, lifting dried up leaves from the ground and throwing them from one corner of the stables to the other only to land on the dirt again, crunching under her feet as she quickens her speed to gather some protection from the chilly temperature. It's rapidly begun escalating to the winter season but thankfully for now it's only the wind that claims October as its own rather than the snow that usually blankets her kingdom every year - _her kingdom._ It was still hard to think about it like that and she was well aware she would soon be expected to utter those words out loud in speeches of hope she wasn't even sure where to get from. 

It seemed like Emma was the one who needed hope these days, and maybe that's a little selfish on her part, but a princess is still only human and its hurt to have only a small cup of tea as a means of comfort from her parents in the weeks that have flown by. She supposed that's where she and Belle had went wrong, thinking that this would bring them closer to their parents only to have it do the opposite. Only to have it create a large rift.

Emma tries to shoot those thoughts away when she finally comes to a stop at one of the empty horse's stalls. She leans against the wooden door, hugging herself against the wind fiercely whipping her hair up and down and causing the goosebumps to stand up on her back and prickle on her arms because she'd discreetly come out here in a dress not-so-appropriate for this weather. But leave it to her to make these type of life decisions; her choices in the past hadn't been the best but maybe this was a good one.

Deciding she could look up now, her eyes quickly scanned the fields until she saw them, a few feet away from where she stood alone, in the middle of dismounting their horses so they could lead them back to the stables. Her gaze landed on him like always, and a small smile appeared on her face without her permission. She let it be there, no one but the Jones brothers and their trainer for their horse riding lessons here, and they were too busy probably talking about techniques to improve their riding to notice her watching. Emma had to squint a little with the sun now hitting the side of her face and warming up her cheek in the otherwise chill making her teeth grit. For a second she even let herself imagine it was his hand caressing her there, cupping it and running his thumb softly along her skin, bringing her the care she missed. 

Liam's laugh cut through her memory and she blinked, catching Killian nodding something either Liam or the traiter said but appearing...distracted. Her brows furrowed but it was difficult to tell. He seemed dazed, deep in thought about something and her heart's fluttering betrayed her denials about not giving a damn whether or not he thought about her too.

As if reading her doubt, he looked back to the field, and at first Emma guessed that he was just reminiscing in the afternoon lesson but then realization slowly sunk in and her expression became tender because he was looking at the same spot where they'd almost touched hands atop their horses all the way back in August. She couldn't be sure if he really was thinking about that but his gaze remained there for a minute longer before returning his attention to picking up the reins, and she just chose to believe he was. It was hard to decipher his emotion; he seemed awfully pensive today, but he also did look better, healthier compared to all the other times she'd sneaked off to catch a glimpse of him in the weeks since he'd officially left to the Navy Academy. And since he'd apologized. Emma still couldn't figure it out but she got distracted by the notion that his hair had grown, the light of the sun making it appear almost red in her vision. She wondered how much more red it would be enveloped in her white light, surrounded by her magic  as she held him to her. That morning when he'd released her from her prison and his arms had come around her waist, her magic had never felt more electric, more alive, more powerful and having his lips hover inches from hers was the worst kind of tension. She'd gotten lost and found in his touch all at once, how was something like that even possible?

Suddenly his head turned in her direction and Emma stiffened. He met her gaze across the distance and she glanced away, cheeks burning a hot crimson when she spun around and practically ran back inside the palace, not relaxing until she was safely in the presence of her annoying tutor again and not tempted to speak to him. 

That was her fault. 

Her farewell to him had already been said.

So why did her stupid heart have to insist otherwise?

 

* * *

 

 

Emma sat cross-legged on the floor days later, fire burning in the hearth, ashes of some wood the only hint that she'd stayed longer than usual. But her brow remained furrowed in concentration as she flipped page after page, tired eyes doing their best to read the words until she just went back to the front and scanned the contents, intent on finding the records of the sickness that had swept up lands into their imminent deaths.  _Searching...searching...searching..._ Her body almost rocked forward and she had to shake her head to steady herself, putting both palms down when her vision went black on and off again, but she was  _SO_ close and she didn't know when she would get the chance to go through this book again once her lesson on the Evil Queen's rule was over. Luckily her tutor had been receptive to letting her borrow it. That was probably the one good thing that had come out of this, finally knowing the name of what had taken Killian and Liam's mother and tore so many others from their loved ones. Emma had to admit she hadn't thought about that conversation until her tutor offhandedly mentioned the name because the Bubble Plague had struck during the early years of her parents rule and had already sparked up before Regina was still yet to marry King Leopold. Historians still liked to include the Bubble Plague in her ruling period because some believed she had been the cause of bringing such sickness and so much death to their homes with her evilness, but this didn't make sense to Emma when the first time was before Regina was crowned queen and it still took years for her to become the monster she was repeatedly said to be. Emma was well aware the woman had brought on countless and probably unforgivable destruction, but it still surprised her the amount of hatred the people had for her that they would go as far as to tarnish her beginnings in every book that deemed to give a short summary of 'Life: Before She Was the Queen'. They'd made sure to paint her as horrible and a great force to not be reckoned with for every other king or queen that came afterwards, and that would last forever. Emma couldn't help but feel that was a little unfair when they hadn't known Regina when she was young, and she sure as hell didn't either but something must have happened to make her the way she was even if no one ever spoke about that.

Emma had certainly learned things about her subjects.

Another thing she couldn't understand was why her parents had failed to mention the Bubble Plague to her, ever. But it was still part of their ruling period, and the disease had definitely struck in places of the Enchanted Forest that made Killian and Liam their subjects even before her father finally freed them from their slavery and took them into their home. So she couldn't figure out why there was no writing of her parents ever having helped stop the second Bubble Plague, or why her parents had neglected to tell her about this. Surely they knew she would come across this sometime during her lessons.

There was just a voice whispering that perhaps they wanted to continue portraying themselves as heroes and-

"Dammit! There's no more tea?!" Emma groaned, holding the weightless cup by the handle and wishing there was at least a drop, but it seemed she had dried it up hours ago. She set it back back down on the small plate and sighed, rubbing annoyedly at her eyes and needing something to wake her up properly if only to keep her going for another ten minutes or so...her exhaustion was really asking for it today, and if she dreamed of nothing more than climbing into his waiting arms than so be it because she was crankier than normal with her wrist itching like  _crazy._

Emma didn't know why she cared so much, why it mattered to her if she found all the Jones victims fallen to the plague, but she did, and turning to page 781, she blinked a couple times to help unblurry her vision and begin reading. She also took a deep breath because although reading about what the plague could do was scary, she had a feeling that seeing the detailed drawings of some of the finest artists of Misthaven at the time would be a whole other level of ' _Jesus Christ, I wasn't prepared_ ' but when would someone ever be prepared to see the dead?

_Bubble Plague Symptoms:_

  * _Chills_
  * _Fever_
  * _Headache_
  * _Weakness_
  * _Painful and enlarged or swollen lymph nodes ( where the 'Bubble Plague' acquired its name in the form of large circular appearing bubbles on the skin and particularly face)_



_Bubble Plague Symptoms (2) *Often referred to as the second phase*_

  * _Fever_
  * _Weakness_
  * _Abdominal pain_
  * _Chills_
  * _Shock_
  * _Bleeding of tissue_
  * _Tissue may appear black or orange after death_



_Bubble Plague (3) *Often referred to as the third phase or prayer phase because this was the point where family members began praying for their loved ones to die and be put out of their misery for fear of continuing to watch them suffer and get infected by keeping them in their household*_

  * _Chest pain_
  * _Shortness of breath_
  * _Coughing_
  * _Fever_
  * _Chills_
  * _Nausea_
  * _Vomiting_



 

 

A tear slipped down Emma's cheek. Killian's mother had had to endure this? And the drawings...there was ten pages worth of drawings and then ten pages more of an endless hill of graves. The drawings...God, these drawings made her sick and her stomach churned with a dinner she'd barely touched. Had this truly happened? So many...just so many dead and gone this way. Killian's mother dead and gone this kind of way. God she hoped he never came across these records, and maybe there was a mercy in losing his mother so young because then those images would fade easier from his mind, but this wasn't the kind of thing one simply forgot with the help of time. Sometimes time wasn't a help at all. Emma was just horrified and more...what if, what if...worse, what if it happened again during her reign? What could she do about this, how could her magic prevent...?

Her head was spinning and her hand abruptly stopped flipping through the pages. She looked down with a shallow breath and squinted at the title ' _MEMOIRS_ '. Her eyes almost didn't search for the J's, if there was anything written for the Jones at all. These were old documents, the yellowness of the pages prominently showing how long its been since anyone looked through this part of the book, the ink wearing off and on the edge of making the grieving sentences unreadable, words cutting off and trailing to the things no one will ever know. Her gaze landed on a first name 'Brennan' and even if Killian had never outright told her his father's name, the resemblance was too familiar for them to not be related. She suddenly understood now why the one time Killian had spoke of him, he'd spoken with such fierceness against him, trembling with a hatred for the man who had abandoned his own son's without a moment's hesitation.

He was afraid. Afraid of becoming like his father. Haunted by the similar looks they shared in appearance. She wondered just how hard t might be for Killian to look in the mirror and not see his father staring back at him, if maybe regular thoughts were " _If we're similar in this, just how far apart from each other, are we?_ " 

Emma would never understand that kind of shadow, but why was she here then? Why was she trying to make sense of who Killian was? Why put all these pieces together, why try at all?

Why even  _want_ to understand him?

She wasn't sure.

She wasn't sure she wanted to be sure.

Her eyes went back to the memoirs, settling on Brennan's.

 

_I will hold you in my heart, dear Alice. Liam and Killian, and I will find our way back to you someday. Please watch over our boys from that better place, my love. You will be missed, my strong and beautiful Alice. Ti'll then._

_-Brennan Jones,_

_February 27th_

 

So it was confirmed. That was their father.

Emma bit her lip, thinking. After a minute she stood up and ripped the page from the book, taking care to neatly fold the memoir in half and then exit the library. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this one took a while for me to finally get done typing up. It might be another while before I get the next four chapters done, but I eventually find my way back here. I'll leave you all with the promise of Emma and Killian moments and prepare yourselves for some revelations and some sadness -Just a bit, I'm not that mean...or am I?  
> Lol, Thank you for reading!


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